L/""1  "T  T/~\Y  T^T^nn  Y  TfV^ir  Yirr 
,C.  v  IOLETT  HOUK 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 


THE 

GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

A  Story  of  Not  So  Long  Ago 


BY 

L.  C.  VIOLETT  HOUK 


NEW  YORK 
JOHN   LANE   COMPANY 

MCMVIII 


Copyright,  1908, 
BY  JOHN  LANE  COMPANY 


SET     UP,    KLKCTROTYPED    AND     PRINTED     BY 
PUBLISHERS  PRINTING  COMPANY,   NKW  YORK 


2136147 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER   I 

SAILS  FULL  SET    . 


CHAPTER   II 
BUT  WHO  ia  SHE?    WHAT  is  SHE?         .         .         .         .12 

CHAPTER  III 
THE  GIEL  IN  QUESTION 22 

CHAPTER  IV 

"TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT  WHICH   GOD   HATH   GIVEN  TO 
MAN  ALONE  BENEATH  THE  HEAVEN  "  (Scorr)     .         .     32 

CHAPTER  V 
WARNING! 49 

CHAPTER  VI 

L'AMITIE    DBS   FEMMES,   C'EST  COMME  L'EAU  DANS  UN 
PANIER  .         .         .         .     '    .         .  .    .         .57 

CHAPTER  VII 
Two  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER 69 

CHAPTER  VIII 

BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS!  78 


vi  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  IX 
A  DIVINE  CRYSTAL 86 

CHAPTER  X 
CHILDREN  OF  MARA — THE  GOD  OF  THE  TRIPLE  THIRST    .     92 

CHAPTER  XI 
THE  LEGEND 101 

CHAPTER  XII 
WHY  CARIMA  ASTRADOS  CAME  TO  WASHINGTON       .         .111 

CHAPTER  XIII 

"Lips  ARE  SMILING,  HEARTS  ARE  ACHING,  ACHING  ALL 
THE  WHILE" 121 

CHAPTER  XIV 
A  "CAPITOL"  CLIMBER 132 

CHAPTER  XV 

"CASH  THIS  AND  SAY  NOTHING" 139 

CHAPTER  XVI 
BEHIND  THE  SCENES 146 

CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN 156 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
KISMET 166 

CHAPTER  XIX 

WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  AND  SIP  RICH  WINES!     .  179 


CONTENTS  vii 

PAGE 

CHAPTER  XX 
THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES  o'  MICE  AN'  MEN  GANG  AFT  A-GLEY  190 

CHAPTER  XXI 

WOMAN  vs.  MAN    .  200 

CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL        .     > 207 

CHAPTER   XXIII 
THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT 216 

CHAPTER  XXIV 
WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW 226 

CHAPTER  XXV 
POLITICS  OR  LOVE? 239 

CHAPTER   XXVI 
THE  MOVING  FINGER  WRITES         .         .         .•'.'.         .  247 

CHAPTER  XXVII 
WHATEVER  Is  Is  BEST?  .  255 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 


The  crush  was  over,  and  the  formal  guests  had 
departed  from  the  weekly  reception  at  the  house  of 
the  Secretary  of  War.  Mrs.  Randolph,  the  Secre- 
tary's second  wife,  strolled  from  the  card-room,  just 
in  time  to  greet  Brigadier-General  Leon  Hartley,  as 
he  entered.  For  the  first  time  that  afternoon,  her 
handsome  face  lighted  with  genuine  pleasure. 

It  was  evident  that  the  second  Mrs.  Randolph, 
who,  rumor  whispered,  had  married  the  old  Secretary 
for  money  and  position,  was  receiving  her  reward 
generously.  Not  only  was  she  teaching  the  War 
Secretary  quite  the  proper  way  to  spend  his  money; 
but,  from  the  beginning,  she  had  taken  a  firm  and 
eager  hand  in  politics,  much  to  his  amusement  at 
first,  though,  of  late,  perhaps,  he  had  reason  to  think 
that  women  and  politics  do  not  combine  for  the  good 
of  man!  His  feelings,  however,  were  not  greatly 
considered  by  his  new  wife,  who,  notwithstanding  all 
his  arguments,  still  maintained  that  a  little  game  of 
cards,  not  forgetting  a  full  punch  bowl,  was  the  best 
persuader  to  popularity. 

Thus  it  was  that  the  parlor  at  the  end  of  the  long 
s 


6          THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

drawing-rooms,  on  this  particular  afternoon,  was 
bubbling  over  with  merriment  and  wine,  and  the 
click  of  chips  to  punctuate  the  revelry. 

Across  the  landscape  the  delicious  Spring  Goddess 
was  touching  the  trees  and  flowers  with  her  magic 
wand ;  but,  as  the  guests  had  entered  the  old  mansion, 
the  beauties  without  were  forgotten;  for  full-fledged 
summer  seemed  to  reign  within.  The  spacious  rooms 
blossomed  with  fragrant  blooms,  almost  hiding  the 
unusual  elegance  of  the  house.  Soft  and  invisible 
music  greeted  the  visitors,  and  sent  a  thrill  through 
their  veins. 

"I  thought  you  weren't  coming,"  Mrs.  Randolph 
said,  smiling  again,  as  she  took  the  young  officer's 
extended  hand.  "Ah,  Thomas,"  she  added,  and 
turned  to  the  negro  servant,  who  entered  with  timely 
precision,  "who  is  winning?" 

"Count  Flambeau  has  don'  won  one  'jack  pot,' 
ma'am." 

A  peculiar  look  came  into  the  lady's  eyes,  but  it  was 
gone  instantly. 

"Take  in  more  wine,"  commanded  the  hostess. 

"Yes,  ma'am — I  is  coolin'  de  bottles." 

"And,  Thomas,  don't  forget  the  General  and  my- 
self!" 

She  turned  with  smiling  lips  again  to  the  young 
officer,  and  motioned  him  to  a  chair  near  her  own. 
Thomas  hurriedly  brought  the  wine. 

Brigadier-General  Hartley  was  a  man  of  perhaps 
thirty-seven  years  of  age,  and  of  a  strong  personality, 
which  is  too  often  mistaken  for  genius.  In  this  in- 
stance, however,  personality  bespoke  individuality  as 
well.  He  had  received  his  title  during  a  sudden  and 


SAILS  FULL  SET  7 

short-lived  war,  on  account  of  excellent  service  in  civil 
as  well  as  military  duty.  A  fluent  knowledge  of  the 
Spanish  language,  also,  had  no  doubt  fostered  his 
opportunity.  Be  that  as  it  may,  he  had  reached 
success.  His  remarkably  handsome  appearance  en- 
hanced his  popularity,  and  wide  was  his  fame  as  a 
desirable  parti  for  debutantes,  wealthy  bachelor 
maids,  and  even  widows.  He  had  a  fascinating 
fashion  of  making  pretty  speeches  to  women,  but 
showed  so  openly  that  he  was  quite  indifferent  to 
them  as  individuals,  that  those  who  were  most 
interested  impatiently  demanded,  "  Is  he  waiting  for 
— a  queen,  a  princess,  or  a  president's  daughter?" 

"You  are  an  artiste  in  selecting  wines,  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph," he  said  easily,  as  he  lifted  his  glass. 

"  It  has  a  bouquet,  which  is  all  there  is  to  wine  or 
life,  General,"  she  replied  quickly.  "What  is  it, 
Thomas?"  she  added  almost  impatiently,  as  the 
negro  interrupted  their  conversation  to  present  a 
letter. 

"I  presume  it  am  a  bill,  ma'am,"  replied  Thomas 
with  grave  courtesy.  "It  was  left  dis  mornin', 
ma'am;  I  don'  overlooked  it." 

"You  are  growing  wise  in  your  old  age,  Thomas," 
smiled  Mrs.  Randolph.  "Put  it  on  the  Secretary's 
desk.  No — here,  let  me  see  it."  She  opened  the 
envelope  and  read: 

"  12  cases  of  wine." 

"  Put  it  on  my  desk,  Thomas." 

She  replaced  the  bill  on  the  silver  leaf  in  the  ser- 
vant's black  hand.  When  he  had  disappeared  from 
view,  she  turned  again  to  her  guest  with  a  laugh. 

"I  will  get  the  money  from  the  Secretary  for  my 


8          THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

church  fund  and  pay  it.  How  odd  life  is  in  a  big 
city,  General !  By  the  way,  tell  me  what  you  know 
of  this  Donna  Carima  Astrados.  You  know  every- 
thing," she  added,  looking  at  him  with  admiration. 
"Tell  me— won't  you?" 

"Well,  I  know  very  little,  except  that  she  has  come 
here  with  a  request  to  the  President  to  recognize  her 
sovereignty,  and  a  petition  for  money  and  help  from 
Congress  to  aid  her  in  freeing  and  reconstructing  her 
country — which  is  only  an  island — on  a  modern, 
civilized  plan.  Her  theory  is  that  we  will  be  repaid 
with  large  interest  at  some  future  time." 

"And  she, — what  is  she  to  receive  for  herself?" 
asked  the  lady  with  a  woman's  cunning. 

"Glory,  of  course,"  replied  the  General  with  his 
charming  smile. 

There  was  an  incredulous  look  in  Mrs.  Randolph's 
eyes,  but  no  further  expression  of  her  thought. 

"She  has  found,"  continued  the  officer,  "some 
popular  applause,  because  of  the  many  sentimen- 
talists in  this  country.  I  have  taken  sufficient  inter- 
est, however,  to  defeat  her;  for  it  would  do  us  no  good 
and  would  open  the  way  for  a  thousand  other  such 
claims  to  fall  upon  our  Government.  Truthfully, 
I  don't  know  why  I  dislike  this  woman,  unless  it  is 
that  I  so  disapprove  of  the  sensational  manner  in 
which  the  'new  woman'  is  pervading,  not  only  our 
country,  but  the  entire  world." 

"But  is  she  really  a  queen?    That  is  the  question." 

"  I  understand  that  the  masses  of  her  people  have 
already  crowned  her  queen,  while  the  richer  class  will 
acknowledge  her  authority  only  on  condition  that  she 
bow  to  the  Roman  Catholic  Church.  These  war- 


SAILS  FULL  SET  9 

ring  elements  have  caused  uprisings  accompanied 
by  unusual  horrors.  The  southern  queen  arrived 
in  this  country,  and  is  now  seeking  our  rec- 
ognition and  aid.  She  is  clever,  indeed.  Know- 
ing that  curiosity  is  our  national  weakness  she 
surrounds  herself  with  a  delightful  veil  of  mystery: 
she  will  allow  no  state,  she  is  simply  '  Donna  Carima 
Astrados/  seeking  relief  for  her  countrymen.  What 
is  Her  Majesty  like?"  queried  the  young  General 
suddenly. 

Mrs.  Randolph  wrinkled  her  pretty  brows  in  per- 
plexity. "  She  is  difficult  to  describe.  One  moment 
she  is  frank, — light-hearted,  and  just  like  a  bright 
American  girl;  the  next,  without  any  apparent  reason, 
she  has  changed  into  a  tigress-like  creature,  cold 
and  mysterious,  with  a  foreign  grace  that  makes  one 
fear  her." 

Hartley  laughed  a  light  pleasant  laugh. 

"  You  draw  an  impossible  character,  quite  interest- 
ing," he  said.  Mrs.  Randolph  looked  annoyed,  but 
the  General  appeared  not  to  notice  her  vexation  and 
motioned  Thomas  to  refill  his  glass. 

The  servant  again  approached,  and  poured  the 
sparkling  beverage  with  the  delicacy  of  a  connoisseur. 

"Where  is  the  Secretary,  Thomas?"  asked  Mrs. 
Randolph  thoughtfully. 

"He  am  below,  ma'am,  showin'  Donna  Carima 
Astrados  de  new  conservatory." 

"Indeed.  Tell  Mr.  Randolph  I  wish  to  see  him," 
she  commanded,  and  Thomas  hastily  bowed  and 
withdrew. 

Hartley  watched  his  hostess  a  moment  in  silence, 
then  leaned  far  over  the  table  toward  her,  and  sug- 


io         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

gested,  "Could  this  woman  hypnotize  the  Secretary, 
as  she  has  so  many  of  our  statesmen?" 

"Do  you  think  I'm  not  old  enough  to  manage  a 
husband?"  Mrs.  Randolph  asked  haughtily  in  reply. 

"I  think  you're  young  enough  to  manage  a  hus- 
band, Mrs.  Randolph,"  he  observed  quietly,  leaning 
back  with  a  satisfied  smile. 

"Tush!  it  will  take  more  than  flattery  to  defeat 
this  girl." 

She  rose  and  stood  before  the  officer,  and  a  strange 
look  crept  into  her  eyes. 

In  courtesy  he  imitated  his  hostess,  and  answered 
her  with  a  steady  gaze. 

"A  diamond  necklace?"  he  asked  at  last. 

"Jewels  are  always  beautiful,  but — but — I  may 
ask  for  something  greater  than  jewels,"  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph responded  meaningly.  He  raised  his  brows 
slightly  in  question. 

"What  is  greater  than  a  jewel  to  a  woman?" 
General  Hartley  inquired,  as  if  to  learn  from  the  most 
wonderful  of  women ;  for  there  was  deference  always 
in  his  manner. 

"When  the  time  comes,  I  will  tell  you.  But  I 
promise  you  Queen  Carima  will  not  obtain  'my  en- 
dorsement to  her  petition  for  a  treaty  between  her 
country  and  ours." 

"You  mean  the  Secretary's  endorsement,"  he 
corrected  her  softly. 

"Are  not  the  Secretary  and  I  one?"  questioned 
the  Secretary's  wife  with  self-assured  confidence. 

"Yes,"  replied  the  officer,  smiling,  " only  you  are 
Secretary." 

"Of  war?  "she  laughed. 


SAILS  FULL  SET  n 

"Of  finesse!"  he  said,  again  correcting  her. 

Hartley  stepped  backward,  as  though  moved  by  a 
sudden  thought.  "If  Donna  Carima  is  here,  don't 
let  me  meet  her.  I'll  go  to  the  Turkish  room  and 
smoke.  You  know  how  I  dislike  meeting  adventur- 
ous women." 

Before  answering,  Mrs.  Randolph  moved  nearer  to 
her  distinguished  guest. 

"Are  you  quite  sure  you  have  never  met  this  girl?" 
she  asked  suspiciously. 

"Quite  sure,"  he  replied  lightly.  "I've  already 
had  a  good  fight  with  her,  and  with  your  help  I  will 
win.  The  Senate  will  never  ratify  this  treaty. 
Women  are  out  of  place  in  politics — all  except  one, 
Mrs.  Randolph." 

Despite  his  convincing  tone  and  manner,  there 
was  a  new  light  in  General  Hartley's  handsome  eyes, 
and  a  doubt  as  to  its  meaning  still  lurked  with  his 
hostess;  yet  she  said  quietly:  "I  believe  you  are 
stronger  than  most  men ;  but  Donna  Carima  Astrados 
is  not  a  fool,  Leon — I  mean  General.  She  is  a  beauti- 
ful demon — and  a  dangerous  one,  whoever  she  is." 

With  a  shrug  of  his  broad  shoulders,  Hartley 
crossed  to  the  door,  as  Secretary  Randolph  and  his 
private  secretary,  John  Durmont,  entered.  The 
salutations  between  the  three  men  were  most  cor- 
dial, but  Hartley  proceeded  on  his  way  to  consult 
his  cigar  and  his  personal  thoughts  concerning  the 
woman  who  had  come  to  Washington  with  the  extra- 
ordinary mission  and  more  extraordinary  mystery. 


CHAPTER  II 

BUT  WHO  is  SHE?    WHAT  is  SHE? 

The  veteran  War  Secretary  looked  more  weary  than 
usual.  It  was  apparent  that,  no  matter  how  much  he 
yearned  for  quiet  restfulness,  not  even  the  atmosphere 
of  his  home  had  brought  him  peace  of  spirit. 

Indeed,  time  had  marked  Clarkson  Randolph's 
history  of  some  sixty  years'  struggle  in  the  deep  lines 
and  hollows  on  his  noble  face.  On  this  particular 
afternoon  his  tired  eyes  borrowed  for  the  moment  a 
glance  from  life's  enthusiasm,  as  they  rested  upon 
his  pretty  wife;  but  habit,  ever  preeminent,  had 
its  way  with  the  statesman,  for  he  took  his  wife's  hand 
only,  in  recognition  of  her  presence.  Then  he 
turned  to  his  young  secretary : 

"You  will  find  the  papers  I  spoke  of  on  my  desk, 
Durmont." 

The  young  man  bowed  and  passed  on  to  the  study. 

"Now,  my  dear,"  the  Secretary  added,  his  mind 
still  obviously  bent  upon  his  many  cares.  He  raised 
his  wife's  slender  fingers  and  pressed  them  soothingly 
against  his  cheek. 

"You  may  well  say  'my  dear'  after  every  one  else 
is  disposed  of,"  she  said  impatiently. 

"Come,"  pleaded  the  great  statesman  as  her  tone 
recalled  him  from  his  thoughts,  "  is  the  Secretary  of 
War  to  be  refused  a  greeting  in  his  own  house  and  by 
his  own  wife?" 


WHO  IS  SHE?     WHAT  IS  SHE?    13 

Mrs.  Randolph  knew  too  well  how  to  control  a 
man,  and  how  to  follow  up  her  advantage. 

"And  what  will  the  Secretary  do  for  the  Secre- 
tary's wife?"  she  half-pouted. 

"As  I  have  always  done — too  much,"  he  answered, 
laughing. 

"Write  it;  then  I  will  be  amiable,"  she  smiled 
back  at  him,  though  there  was  determination  in  her 
tone.  She  pointed  to  a  seat  at  the  writing-desk. 
He  took  the  chair  she  offered,  but  pushed  aside  the 
pen  which  she  held  toward  him. 

"  I  never  write  promises,  my  dear.  I  am  in  politics," 
declared  the  Secretary. 

"So  am  I — in  politics;  but  I  am  more  fearless," 
rejoined  his  wife,  coyly  fingering  the  pen. 

"Because  I  am  here  to  protect  you,  dear;  but  I 
have  no  one  to  lean  upon,"  he  said,  regarding  her 
sadly.  "  Clever,  pretty  women  draw  the  trump  cards 
of  life.  Be  content  with  the  better.  You  can't  repre- 
sent both  sexes,  dear  one." 

"But  I  am  not  content.  You  don't  love  me!" 
exclaimed  the  spoilt  woman  pettishly. 

The  Secretary  regarded  her  earnestly  for  a  moment. 
He  might  read  the  inmost  motives  of  a  shrewd  man ; 
but  with  his  own  wife  he  was  powerless,  with  all 
his  experience,  to  interpret  the  curl  of  her  lips  or  the 
fleeting  shadow  which  passed  across  her  brow. 

"  Ah,  my  sweet  wife !  What  is  it  you  want?  Another 
commission ,  another  first-lieutenancy  ?  "  He  caressed 
her  hand  fondly.  "I  have  been  indiscreet  in  my 
desire  to  satisfy  your  every  whim.  It  has  caused 
comment,  my  dear.  Durmont  has  cautioned  me." 

"Always  Durmont!"  she  cried,  angrily  drawing 


i4         THE   GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

away  her  hand.  "Do  you  do  your  secretary's  bid- 
ding?" 

"I  trust  him,  dear,"  answered  the  man  of  many 
responsibilities  patiently,  "which  is  more  than  I 
can  say  of  some  higher  in  office." 

"Your  wife  included?"  She  tossed  her  head  in 
challenge. 

"No,  no,  dear;  please  be  kind  to  me  to-day.  I'm 
so  tired — so  tired." 

Mrs.  Randolph  changed  her  tactics  in  response 
to  her  lord  and  master's  mood,  knelt  by  him  tenderly, 
and,  placing  her  head  gently  against  his  arm,  spoke 
softly,  pleadingly  to  him. 

"It  isn't  a  commission  of  any  kind  I  want.  It  is 
only  a  little  request  for  your  own  good.  You  see 
how  unfair  you've  been  to  me?  Just  a  little  line  I 
want,  saying  that  you  refuse  your  endorsement  to  the 
Astrados  treaty,  which,  you  know,  would  be  of  no 
benefit  to  us  if  she  succeeded.  A  thousand  other 
petitions  of  the  kind  would  fall  upon  our  poor  Govern- 
ment, and,  you  know,  we  believe  in  the  old  maxim 
that  'charity  begins  at  home.'  Do  this  to  please  me. 
Ah!  I  do  love  you, — my  great,  great  husband!" 

She  was  wonderfully  appealing,  as  she  knelt  be- 
fore him.  A  weak  man  might  have  resisted  her;  a 
strong  man  hardly.  Her  eyes  were  bright  with  their 
pleading;  but  the  Secretary  withdrew  his  gaze  for  a 
moment  from  her  face.  He  was  thinking. 

"But,  my  dear,  it  would  be  unpopular,  and  there 
are  those  who  suspect  already  some  things  I  have 
done,"  he  urged,  as  he  turned  her  request  over  in  his 
mind. 

"For  me?"  she  asked  impatiently. 


WHO  IS  SHE?     WHAT  IS  SHE?   15 

"For  you,"  answered  her  husband  sadly.  He 
looked  at  her;  then  his  thought  seemed  to  jump  to  a 
conclusion.  " Some  one  is  behind  this! "  he  exclaimed 
suspiciously.  He  arose  suddenly  to  his  feet.  "  Is  it 
a  man?"  he  asked  sharply. 

"  No,"  replied  his  wife  with  an  air  of  triumph.  "  It 
is  a  woman.  A  woman  whom  you  are  interested  in 
— a  beautiful  woman!" 

The  Secretary  looked  at  her  in  astonishment. 

"What,  are  you  jealous  of  me,  my  sweet  wife?" 
he  exclaimed,  softening,  a  joyous  look  beaming  in  his 
eyes. 

She  turned  away  with  the  tinge  of  a  smile,  but, 
remembering  her  play  and  playing  it  well,  "I  hate 
her!"  she  half-murmured. 

Her  husband  took  her  face  tenderly  between  his 
hands  and  kissed  her. 

"I  worship  you,"  he  said  fervently.  "It  is  Dur- 
mont  who  has  taken  up  Donna  Carima's  cause, 
not  I.  You  couldn't  suspect  him,  could  you?" 

"  Why  not?  He  is  a  man,"  she  answered,  without 
meeting  his  gaze. 

"Come,  kiss  me,  for  I  must  go,"  the  Secretary 
said,  raising  his  wife's  face  toward  his  own,  but  she 
only  drew  away  and  replied  firmly : 

"  No — not  until  I  get  your  promise.  Prove  to  me 
that  you  are  not  interested  in  the  queen." 

He  sat  back  at  the  desk  with  a  hopeless  air,  and 
drew  the  paper  and  pen  nearer  to  him,  as  if  to  write. 

There  was  a  burst  of  merriment  from  the  next  room. 

The  Secretary  rose,  and  walking  quickly  to  the  door, 
opened  it  slightly  and  looked  in.  He  shut  it  almost 
as  quickly,  however,  and  returned  to  his  wife. 


16         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"I  have  forbidden  gambling  in  my  house,  yet 
I  find  it  here  again!" 

"Only  a  little  game.  Every  one  plays  cards. 
You  are  very  old-fashioned  in  your  ideas.  I  am  of 
younger  times — that  is  all."  She  meant  to  hurt 
him;  but  he  ignored  the  thrust  at  his  age. 

"Only  a  little  game!"  he  cried.  "Alwaj^s  a  little 
game  at  the  Secretary's  home!  What  will  the  people 
say  when  they  hear  of  it?" 

"  The  people ! "  repeated  Mrs.  Randolph  scornfully, 
returning  to  her  neglected  wine.  "  Are  the  people  to 
interfere  in  my  house?" 

"The  people  make  and  unmake  in  our  land,  my 
child,"  the  Secretary  said,  passing  his  hand  wearily 
across  his  eyes.  "We  must  not  rouse  them." 

"We  won't  let  them  know,  and  don't  speak  to  me 
as  though  I  were  a  child,"  she  snapped,  arranging  her 
dress  before  the  mirror. 

"But  they  hear  in  strange  ways  sometimes  and — 
they  vote!"  His  voice  became  utterly  hopeless,  as 
he  noted  his  young  wife's  determined  indifference. 

She  continued,  however,  to  look  admiringly  at  herself, 
as  she  replied  contemptuously :  "  The  people  are  only 
of  use  to  stop  bullets  while  the  Secretary  of  War  dines." 

"And  while  his  young  wife  gambles  away  his  life- 
work!"  continued  the  Secretary  after  some  moments' 
reflective  pause.  "You  don't  love  me,  my  dear; 
you  have  never  loved  me,"  he  added,  his  voice 
breaking. 

The  confused  murmur  from  the  card-room  became 
louder. 

"Listen!"  cried  Mrs.  Randolph.  "That  is  the 
voice  of  Her  Majesty  Queen  Carima!  She  is  not 


WHO  IS  SHE?     WHAT  IS  SHE?   17 

opposed  to  gambling!  Why  don't  you  lecture  her? 
But  no;  oh,  no — bah!  You  men!  There!  I  can 
see  it !  That  woman  has  fascinated  you,  too ! " 

"  Hush ! "  commanded  the  Secretary.  "  Here  come 
your  guests." 

The  Honorable  Mr.  Randolph  arose,  a  princely 
gentleman  of  the  old  school,  to  do  honor  to  his  wife's 
visitors,  notwithstanding  the  cruel  blow  with  which  she 
had  shattered  the  illusions  that  helped  to  keep  life 
bubbling  within  his  tired  heart.  Quite  uncon- 
scious of  his  sufferings  or  indifferent  to  them,  Mrs. 
Randolph  smiled  upon  Count  Flambeau  and  Mrs. 
Wilson  as  they  entered  the  room,  leaving  laughter 
and  a  confusion  of  chatter  behind  them. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Wilson  and  the  Count!  Have  you 
tired  of  the  table?"  she  inquired  cordially. 

"No,  but  the  table  got  all  we  had  and  then  jilted 
us!"  laughed  the  matronly  lady,  for  whom  the  Count 
had  gone  bond. 

"Who  is  winning?"  questioned  the  hostess  with 
marked  interest. 

"The  Southern  Queen,  whom  we  call  Donna 
Carima,"  answered  the  Count,  visibly  worried. 

"I  wonder  if  she  plays  straight?"  suddenly  asked 
Mrs.  Wilson. 

"Oh,  Mrs.  Wilson!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Randolph  re- 
provingly. "My  guests  are  honorable."  She  did 
not  fail,  however,  to  shoot  a  malicious  little  glance 
at  her  husband;  but  the  Secretary  only  dropped 
his  eyes. 

"  Well,  if  you  know  so  much  about  Her  Majesty," 
observed  Mrs.  Wilson,  "I  wish  you  would  tell  us. 
No  one  else  seems  to  know  anything  about  her." 


i8         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Well—  "  Mrs.  Randolph  hesitated  as  she  repeated 
the  word  with  a  doubtful  accent — "  Well,  she  is  one 
of  my  guests  whom  I  can't  exactly  vouch  for.  She 
landed  here  among  us,  as  most  people  do  in  Wash- 
ington, with  stories  galore  of  both  a  future — and  a 
past." 

"But  we  all  have  those,"  interrupted  Nicholas 
Worthington,  the  grandson  of  the  Secretary  and  the 
hope  and  pride  of  his  family,  who  had  strolled  into 
the  room  after  the  others.  On  his  arm  hung  little 
Miss  Courtney,  motherless  daughter  of  Chief  Justice 
Courtney.  She  was  a  worldly  little  miss  just  out  of 
school  and  far  too  bright  and  pretty  to  be  adrift  in  the 
social  whirl. 

"We  were  speaking  of  the  wonderful  Southern 
Queen,"  explained  Mrs.  Randolph  with  a  reproving 
wave  of  her  hand  toward  Nicholas. 

"Oh,  yes,  isn't  she  beautiful?"  observed  Miss 
Courtney  with  youthful  decision. 

"Odd  she  isn't  married  to  some  other  queer  ruler," 
suggested  Mrs.  Wilson,  fully  aware  of  the  hornet's 
nest  lurking  in  her  remark. 

"Perhaps  she  is,"  argued  young  Miss  Courtney 
hopefully.  "It  isn't  the  fashion  for  even  a  queen 
to  tell  everything  she  is,  and  then  people  are  not 
proud  of  their  weaknesses  now,  as  they  used  to  be. 
You  know,  it  was  once  a  sign  of  distinction  to  have 
gout  in  the  family.  Times  change!" 

The  young  girl  delivered  her  remark  with  an  air  of 
profound  wisdom. 

"No,  wise  sage,"  cried  Mrs.  Wilson,  with  a  superior 
toss  of  the  head,  "she  told  me  she  didn't  believe  in 
marriage." 


WHO  IS  SHE?     WHAT  IS  SHE?  19 

"More  proof  that  she  has  tried  it,"  replied  Miss 
Courtney  quickly. 

"Perhaps  she  is  divorced,"  suggested  the  wily 
Count,  with  sudden  inspiration. 

"I  believe  Her  Majesty  is  one  woman  who  has  a 
heart,"  Nicholas  said  softly, "  a  real  heart  that  one 
dreams  and  reads  about,  not  a  society  organ  used  on 
festive  occasions  only." 

Miss  Courtney  looked  at  her  comrade  in  horror. 
The  other  ladies  laughed,  for  life  was  not  so  serious 
to  them  as  to  the  young  debutante.  They  had  out- 
grown its  paroxysms. 

"Wonderful  how  a  clever  woman  can  fool  men!" 
commented  Mrs.  Wilson.  "If  she  had  suffered,  my 
dear  Nick,  she  wouldn't  make  a  collection  of  wounded 
hearts  to  drag  around  after  her!  She  is  simply  an 
abominable  coquette — with  a  capital  C,  even  if  she 
is  of  royal  birth." 

"  She  is  right,"  remarked  little  Miss  Courtney  with 
precision,  for  her  opinion  was  never  lacking  upon  all 
subjects,  including  life,  marriage,  and  other  unsolved 
problems. 

"But  what  is  she?  Who  is  she?"  insisted  Mrs. 
Wilson  again  more  curiously. 

"I  don't  know.  She  has  money — the  best  in- 
troductions. Of  course,  there  is  gossip  of — but  she 
is  my  guest,"  added  Mrs.  Randolph  aggravatingly. 

"I  refuse  to  listen  to  your  gossip,  Grandma!" 
cried  Nick  angrily.  He  walked  across  the  room  to 
his  grandfather,  who  looked  even  older  now,  as  he 
sat  at  his  desk  where  his  ears  could  not  help  catching 
the  conversation. 

As  the  chorus  of  "We  Promise  Not  to  Tell"  sub- 


ao         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

sided  from  the  cluster  of  gossips  about  the  hostess, 
Mrs.  Randolph  observed  quite  clearly,  making  sure 
that  her  remark  reached  her  husband:  "Well, 
they  do  say  the  King  of  Belgium  is — er — interested 
in  her — cause,  and  that  he  provided  her  with  the 
means  of  coming  here." 

"Indeed!  But  if  this  is  true,  should  we  receive 
her?"  objected  Mrs.  Wilson,  with  the  same  dignity 
which  had  carried  her  through  a  divorce  scandal  with 
so  much  composure  that  she  had  really  convinced 
society  she  was  in  the  right,  no  matter  how  things 
seemed. 

"  But,  my  dear  Mrs.  Wilson,"  smiled  Mrs.  Randolph, 
"  how  are  we  to  know?  And  then  one  receives  every 
one  in  Washington!" 

"Washington  may,"  said  one  of  the  many  mothers 
of  social  propriety,  "but  I  do  not!" 

"I  wonder  what  the  diamond  locket  contains 
which  she  wears  continually,"  interrupted  the  Count, 
feeling  the  uncomfortable  turn  the  conversation 
had  taken,  and  dexterously  changing  the  current. 

"I  wonder  if  it  is  real?"  chimed  in  Mrs.  Wilson. 

"Oh,  I  presume  so,  but  what  does  it  contain?  " 
continued  the  Count.  "I  asked  her  once,  and  she 
replied : '  My  secret !  We  all  have  a  secret,  I  suppose ! ": 

"I  told  you  she  was  married,"  broke  in  the  young 
society  monitor  with  confidence.  "A  locket  always 
means, — '  What  Might  Have  Been.' " 

"Perhaps,"  laughed  the  Count  jocosely;  "but 
I  mean  something  important.  The  men  think,  if 
they  could  see  into  that  locket,  they  would  obtain 
the  key  to  her — er — power.  They  have  bets  on  it 
at  all  the  clubs." 


WHO  IS  SHE?     WHAT  IS  SHE?  21 

"Why  are  they  so  interested  in  her?"  sneered 
Mrs.  Wilson.  "  I  can't  see  that  she's  so  wonderful, 
and  I  don't  believe  she's  a  real  queen." 

"  Well,  some  are  interested  because  they  are  in  love 
with  her;  but  I  believe  the  greater  number  wish  to 
know  if  her — er — influence  is  too  powerful  to  offend. 
She  may  be  a  fair  impostor,  but  she  has  succeeded  in 
frightening  or  captivating  half  of  the  Senate  and 
most  of  the  House  after  eight  weeks  at  the  Capital — 
not  a  bad  record  for  a  girl,  whoever  she  is." 

The  Count  paused  for  breath,  as  he  finished  his 
observations  upon  the  lady,  but,  catching  it  as  quickly, 
he  began  again  hi  his  usual  energetic  manner:  "The 
United  States  Government  is  inundated  with  extraor- 
dinary petitions,  but  when  I  talk  to  Donna  Carima 
she  convinces  even  me  that  every  country  should 
have  a  sovereign — except  the  United  States,  and, 
therefore,  her  petition  should  receive  due  considera- 
tion." 

Mrs.  Wilson  gave  her  diplomatic  friend  a  contemp- 
tuous look,  accentuated  by  a  little  American  shrug, 
and  observed  calmly,  having  levelled  her  lorgnette 
squarely  at  the  speaker:  "Thank  you,  Count,  but 
I  am  still  at  sea  as  to  who  or  what  Her — h'm — 
Her  Majesty  is!" 

"Hush!"  commanded  the  omniscient  Miss  Court- 
ney, " here  comes  the  girl  in  question! " 


CHAPTER   III 

THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

The  curtains  of  the  card-room  were  thrown  back 
and  revealed  Donna  Carima  Astrados  in  the  midst 
of  a  crowd  of  men  and  women,  all  talking  at  once. 
General  excitement  evidently  prevailed.  Some  of 
the  players  looked  pale  or  troubled,  but  the  august 
lady  who  had  caused  so  much  comment  was  ap- 
parently indifferent  to  it  all.  She  stood  a  calm  and 
triumphant  mistress  of  her  situation,  each  bejewelled 
hand  crammed  full  of  gold  and  greenbacks. 

" Three  thousand  for  me!  A  new  horse  and  a  good 
one!"  she  cried  merrily.  "A  vote  of  thanks  to  the 
Secretary !  God  bless  him ! ' ' 

There  was  a  strong  suggestion  of  imperialism  in 
the  manner  of  the  girl  in  question,  and  yet  her  smile 
was  so  sweet  that  her  companions,  despite  their 
varying  fortunes  and  dubious  criticisms,  caught  up 
her  triumphant  cry,  and  a  ringing  cheer  arose  from 
them. 

"There!"  sneered  Mrs.  Randolph,  "she  always 
wins  with  her  foreign  luck!" 

Donna  Carima  advanced  toward  the  Secretary,  her 
face  and  eyes  glowing  with  joyous  excitement. 

"See  what  I  have  won,  Mr.  Secretary!"  she 
cried  gayly,  her  quaint  rhythmic  accent  adding 
charm  to  her  wonderful  voice.  "Look,  Mr.  Dur- 
mont,  I  have  a  pile  to  catch  an  English  prince!" 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION         23 

"And  the  prince  would  be  as  worthless  as  your 
winnings,"  answered  the  Secretary's  secretary,  hop- 
ing that  she  could  not  hear  his  heart  beating  regret- 
fully for  her  under  his  coat. 

"You  must  remember,  Donna  Carima,"  observed 
Secretary  Randolph  sadly, — and  he  had  had  oc- 
casion many  times  in  his  life  to  appreciate  the  force 
of  his  remark, — "when  you  win,  others  lose." 

"That  is  the  fortune' of  life!"  laughed  the  young 
ruler.  "I  love  to  win  at  all  things!  It  makes  the 
blood  dance  through  the  veins  to  win — to  win 
at  cards,  at  balls — at  war!"  At  the  last  word  the 
power  of  Donna  Carima,  girl  though  she  was, 
checked  all  merriment. 

There  was  a  pause  broken  by  Durmont.  "And  at 
love?"  he  asked,  to  break  the  tragic  breath  which 
stilled  the  room. 

Instantly  Donna  Carima  smiled  again.  "Do 
you  believe  in  love  in  Washington?"  she  cried.  "I 
thought  it  was  out  of  fashion.  Here  marriage 
seems  to  be  a  bargain.  The  lover  does  not  say, 
'I  give  you  my  fortune  because  I  love  you,'  but, 
'  I  give  you  my  fortune,  if  you  give  me  your  life  and 
love!'  Is  it  not  true,  Mrs.  Wilson?" 

"Quite  true,"  replied  the  divorcee  over-sweetly. 
"You  are  an  apt  pupil  in  society,  and  you  have  been 
here  such  a  short " 

Donna  Carima  glanced  at  the  speaker,  who  stopped 
instantly.  The  young  Queen  glided  forward  with 
uncommon  grace,  and,  dropping  her  winnings  into 
the  lady's  lap,  said  carelessly:  "Use  these  for  your 
'Lost  Babies  Society,'  please.  Money  is  a  game, 
Mrs.  Wilson,  only  a  game — to  win  like  the  others." 


24         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Or  lose  like  the  others,"  murmured  the  Secre- 
tary's secretary. 

"Ah,  Mr.  Durmont,  you  are  cynical  as  usual. 
But  it  is  foolish  to  lose;  there  is  no  excitement,  no 
thrill!" 

There  was  an  airy  lightness  in  Donna  Carima's 
answer. 

"There  is  a  memory  to  cherish,"  remarked  the 
young  man  seriously. 

"You  are  right,  always  right,  Durmont,"  observed 
the  aged  Secretary  with  approval.  And  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph added:  "Of  course!"  If  there  was  mockery 
intended,  it  was  sweetly  covered. 

"But,  nothing  to  spend!"  still  laughed  Donna 
Carima,  with  a  bewitching  shrug.  "Don't  you  all 
like  money?  I  do." 

"I  am  sorry  to  hear  you  say  so,"  answered  Dur- 
mont hopelessly. 

"So  am  I,"  said  the  Secretary  firmly.  Count 
Flambeau's  eyes  twinkled;  he  pulled  out  his  empty 
pockets.  They  were  more  expressive  than  words. 
They  seemed  to  say  to  the  amusement  of  the  lighter- 
hearted,  "So  are  we!" 

In  the  general  social  mel^e  Mrs.  Wilson  managed 
sympathetically  to  pass  close  enough  to  the  Count  to 
whisper  in  his  ear:  "And  so  am  I!  Lend  me  cab- 
fare,  Count?" 

"I'll  walk  home  with  you,  Sophie,"  was  the  wily 
Frenchman's  only  reply. 

"Oh,  no,  you  won't!"  she  corrected  him  re- 
provingly. "  I'm  too  poor  to  think  of  walking, 
Count." 

But  with  it  all,  Donna  Carima's  gay ety  seemed  to 


THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION         25 

pervade  the  atmosphere  in  spite  of  Dame  Fortune's 
merry  change  of  purses.  It  was  evident  that  all 
could  afford  the  play,  for  every  one  was  now  laughing 
and  chatting,  and  perhaps  their  dinners  were  not  at 
stake. 

"See!"  cried  the  fair  winner  to  Durmont,  "we 
all  want  money!  It  keeps  away  the  ugly,  and  gives 
us  the  beautiful.  We  need  the  beautiful  always." 

"You  are  beautiful  and  many  need  you.  Would 
it  be  right  for  all  to  have  you  ? ' '  inquired  the  Secretary's 
secretary. 

"  You  all  have  a  share  in  my  heart,"  replied  Donna 
Carima.  "  You  are  beginning  to  make  me  think,  Mr. 
Durmont.  Please  don't  to-day,  I  feel  so  happy,  so 
happy !  I  am  sure  that  something  wonderful  is  going 
to  happen.  I  don't  want  to  break  the  spell.  So — 
don't  make  me  think." 

"I  hope  you  think  of  me  sometimes,"  Durmont 
said  wistfully. 

"  I  do,"  the  lady  responded. 

"You  have  so  many  friends — I  mean  things  to 
think  of,  I  don't  hope  for  more  than  a  passing 
thought." 

"  Still,  you  are  my  friend." 

"  You  mean — oh,  no,  you  don't,"  cried  the  young 
man,  stopping  short.  His  eyes  apologized  for  his 
presumption. 

"I  mean,  I  trust  you,"  she  answered,  gazing 
directly  at  him. 

"Thank  you  for  putting  it  that  way,"  he  said 
bravely.  "I  accept.  Here  is  my  resignation." 

Her  democratic  manner  had  lent  him  courage,  and 
he  offered  her  his  hand.  She  placed  her  own  within 


26         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

it  and  looked  up  at  him  with  a  brilliant  smile  which 
lighted  her  lovely  face  expressively. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  that,"  she  said  softly.  Then 
her  mood  changed,  and  she  too  became  serious. 
"I  need  you,  too.  I  need  your  help  now.  Will 
you  give  it  to  me?"  Her  voice  vibrated  with  subtle 
strength  and  yet  fell  upon  his  ear  as  softly  as  a 
caress. 

"  Yes,"  he  answered.     "  Yes." 

It  was  more  than  a  promise. 

The  Secretary's  wife  crossed  the  room  to  her  hus- 
band. "Do  you  see  how  Donna  Carima  is  flirting 
with  Durmont?  Are  you  not  jealous?"  she  asked 
mockingly.  Then  she  smiled,  as  if  in  conciliation. 
"You  haven't  proved  anything  to  me — yet,"  she 
said. 

He  smiled  back  at  her  sadly  and  moved  slowly 
toward  Durmont,  who  now  stood  waiting  for  him. 
Mrs.  Randolph  followed. 

"Mr.  Secretary,"  observed  the  young  man,  as  they 
reached  the  doorway  leading  to  the  study,  "I  want 
to  talk  to  you  about  the  advisability  of  your  Depart- 
ment recommending  the  acceptance  of  the  treaty  pre- 
sented by  Donna  Carima's  friends.  It  is  a  popular 
movement,  and  may  quiet  any  little  question  caused 
by  those  commissions,  sir.  No  one  is  seriously 
fighting  it  except  General  Hartley,  and  he  is  known 
to  be  an  eccentric." 

Mrs.  Randolph  could  bear  no  more.  She  inter- 
rupted the  plea  for  the  fair  stranger  quickly,  with  a 
sharp  glance  of  disapproval  at  the  Secretary. 

"How  does  Senator  Truesdale  stand  in  this 
matter?"  she  asked. 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION         27 

The  sudden  question  startled  the  two  men,  for 
they  had  not  observed  her  approach. 

If  Mrs.  Randolph  could  not  completely  overcome 
the  influence  being  brought  to  bear  on  all  sides  upon 
her  husband  in  behalf  of  Donna  Carima's  petition,  she 
could  at  least  temporarily  delay  it  by  change  of  sub- 
ject until  she  should  have  time  to  think,  and  she 
could  find  out  if  the  Truesdales,  whom  she  hated 
for  their  straitlaced  opinions  as  well  as  for  their 
social  aspirations,  would  be  likely  to  be  in  her  camp 
or  in  that  of  the  enemy. 

"I  hear  the  Senator  wishes  to  represent  us  at 
St.  James's  or  France,"  observed  the  Secretary,  evad- 
ing the  question. 

"And  do  Mrs.  Truesdale  and  her  daughter  ac- 
company him?"  asked  the  interested  wife. 

"Wives  generally  accompany  their  husbands — 
abroad,"  the  Secretary  answered,  a  trifle  bit- 
terly. 

"Indeed!  I  wish  we  had  a  daughter  to  outshine 
that  homely  little  Truesdale  girl!"  she  exclaimed 
jealously. 

A  spasm  of  pain  crossed  her  husband's  face,  but 
Mrs.  Randolph  continued  vehemently:  "The  Trues- 
dales do  not  go  to  England  with  my  consent,  unless— 
they  do  my  way." 

"  You  and  the  President  and  the  Senate  will  have 
to  settle  that,  my  dear,"  declared  the  Secretary  in  a 
tired  voice. 

"We  will,  and  it  won't  be  the  first  time  that  the 
President  and  the  Senate  have  come  to  my  way  of 
thinking,"  persisted  his  wife. 

"Truesdale  is  strong  with  the  President,"  sug- 


28         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

gested  Durmont  in  an  undertone.  "I  don't  quite 
trust  him,  Mr.  Secretary." 

"But  why  should  he  be  an  enemy,  Durmont? 
I  never  did  him  a  favor!" 

There  was  a  worn  smile  on  the  venerable  politi- 
cian's lips,  as  he  reflected  upon  the  ingratitude  of 
life's  political  good-fellowships. 

"  St.  James's ! "  sneered  the  irritated  wife.  "  Why, 
every  one  knows  that  the  Truesdales  began  life  in  a 
log  cabin,  with  hardly  a  shirt  to  their  backs.  A 
spectacle  for  St.  James's!" 

"  You  are  treading  on  dangerous  ground,  my  dear, 
when  you  speak  of  those  old,  old  days,"  observed 
the  Honorable  Mr.  Randolph,  with  a  faraway  look  in 
his  pale  eyes.  "  Our  country  didn't  afford  the  advan- 
tages in  those  times  that  the  young  men  have  now." 

"Well,  your  family  had  blue  blood  at  least,"  pro- 
tested the  lady  proudly. 

"Yes,  but  no  shirts  to  spare,"  corrected  the  Secre- 
tary, with  his  quiet  humor. 

At  this  moment,  Thomas  announced,  "Mrs. 
Truesdale  and  Miss  Truesdale!" 

"Speak  of  an  angel  and  you  hear  the  flutter  of 
wings,"  laughed  the  worldly  hostess  triumphantly. 
"  Come,  Mrs.  Wilson,  call  every  one  to  bow  before  her 
ladyship  of  the  Court  of  St.  James's.  I  thought  I'd 
make  her  call  again  before  the  season  was  over.  I 
tremble  with  joy  at  her  condescension.  St.  James's, 
indeed!" 

"Be  polite,  my  dear.  I  may  have  use  for  the 
Senator,"  whispered  the  Secretary,  laying  a  detain- 
ing hand  upon  his  wife's  arm. 

"Don't  worry,  dear,  I  may  have  use  for  him  too," 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION         29 

she  answered,  and  hurried  to  the  drawing-room  to 
greet  her  guests. 

The  Secretary  wisely  made  his  escape,  after  the 
manner  of  busy  men,  by  the  side  door.  Durmont 
followed. 

At  this  moment  General  Hartley  strolled  into  the 
library  through  the  card-room,  and  came  face  to 
face  with  Donna  Carima,  who  stood  with  a  small 
gathering  of  guests  around  her. 

The  man  and  the  woman  paused  and  stared  at  one 
another. 

Several  of  the  group  followed  the  hostess  into  the 
adjoining  room,  when  Mrs.  Wilson,  perhaps  feeling  a 
malicious  little  interest  in  the  situation,  stepped  for- 
ward and  quickly  made  a  formal  introduction.  A 
silence  followed,  however,  which  was  broken  only  by 
the  sound  of  a  loud  kiss,  and  Mrs.  Randolph's  voice 
floated  back  upon  them: 

"  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  Mrs.  Truesdale — and 
Dora,  my  dear!  What  a  lovely  gown!  How  well 
you  are  both  looking!" 

Mrs.  Wilson  took  Nicholas  tactfully  by  the  arm  and 
led  him  away  in  a  whispered  conversation:  "General 
Hartley  is  fighting  her  petition." 

Nicholas  answered  in  an  undertone:  "She'll 
win  him  over  too." 

"I  don't  know  about  that,"  observed  Mrs.  Wilson. 
"Come,  Ellice,"  she  called  over  her  shoulder  to  Miss 
Courtney. 

Flambeau  immediately  offered  the  little  miss  his  arm. 
The  Count  was  an  old  diplomat.  He  knew  every- 
thing that  was  going  on  about  him.  He  knew  when 
to  move  and  when  to  stand  still.  He  knew  when  to 


30         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

talk  and  when  to  remain  silent.  He  knew  now  it 
was  time  to  move. 

"I'll  take  a  'place'  chance  on  her  winning,"  ob- 
served Miss  Courtney  in  the  Count's  ear,  as  they 
passed,  her  eyes  well  fixed  on  the  faces  of  the  officer 
and  Donna  Carima,  who  still  stood  immovable, 
neither  apparently  able  to  think  of  anything  to  say. 

The  Count  hurried  the  girl  out  of  the  room. 

"  Well,"  he  chatted  in  reply,  as  they  walked  along, 
"let's  go,  or  the  race  will  be '  scratched.'  Don't  look 
so  disappointed,  my  child.  We  are  now  going  to  a 
respectable  '  hen-fight.' " 

Both  laughed  and  disappeared  through  the  doorway. 

The  moment  they  were  alone,  Hartley  sprang  for- 
ward and  caught  Donna  Carima's  hands  in  his  own. 

"You!"  he  cried.     "  You  are  Carima  Astrados." 

"  And  you ! "  she  smiled.  '  You  are  my  great  enemy." 

"How  could  I  know  that  you  were  you?"  his 
fine  voice  thrilled  in  undisguised  excitement.  "  Why 
did  you  not  tell  me  who  you  were  at  St.  Augustine? 
Why  did  you  forbid  me  to  inquire?  Then  why  did 
you  disappear?  Why?"  he  questioned  passionately. 

"I  hope  I  do  not  interrupt?" 

The  speaker's  voice  sounded  a  startling  note  to  the 
two  persons  so  engrossed  in  one  another,  and  each 
looked  up  involuntarily.  Nicholas  Worthington  stood 
before  them,  taking  in  the  scene,  an  angry  blush 
coloring  his  face. 

"I  beg  pardon,"  he  continued,  bowing  low,  "but 
Mrs.  Truesdale  has  asked  the  honor  of  a  presentation 
to  Donna  Carima  Astrados.  May  I  have  the  pleasure 
of  escorting  her  to  the  drawing-room?" 

He  presented  his  arm  with  his  usual  grace. 


THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION         31 

After  a  moment's  hesitation,  Donna  Carima  ac- 
cepted ;  but  looking  back,  she  said,  in  the  manner  of 
social  indifference:  "I  am  at  home  on  Friday  after- 
noons, General  Hartley." 

The  officer  bowed  his  acknowledgment,  and 
watched  her  sweep  from  the  room  with  the  spoilt 
favorite,  Nicholas  Worthington. 

"And  my  'Lost  Princess'  is  Carima  Astrados! 
Great  God,  what  does  it  mean?"  he  asked  himself, 
still  gazing  blankly  at  the  empty  doorway. 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  True  love's  the  gift  which  God  hath  given 
To  man  alone  beneath  the  heaven." 

Scott. 

James  Graham  was  butler  in  the  house  of  Mrs. 
Carroll  Wilson,  and  very  proud  he  was,  too,  of  a  posi- 
tion where  he  had  been  able  to  "make  de  personal 
acquaintance"  of  so  many  distinguished  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  for  it  meant  much  to  the  advancement 
of  his  chosen  profession. 

At  present,  however,  all  his  ambitions  were  cen- 
tred in  the  fulfilment  of  a  desire  which  had  budded 
in  the  heart  of  Emily  Smith,  chambermaid  in  the 
same  establishment,  to  be  appointed  to  the  position 
of  a  Government  employe. 

The  chances,  pro  and  con,  of  the  proposition  had 
been  thoroughly  discussed  by  James  and  Miss  Smith 
after  the  midday  meal  in  the  servants'  hall  on  the 
afternoon  following  Mrs.  Randolph's  reception. 
They  had  concluded  that  another  appeal  to  Mr. 
Thomas  Jefferson,  of  Mr.  Secretary  Randolph's 
household,  might  crown  their  desires  with  success. 

At  the  moment  their  consultations  had  reached 
this  important  conclusion,  and  Miss  Smith  was 
gazing  languidly  out  of  the  basement  door,  she  was 
overtaken  with  what  would  have  been  known  in  the 
case  of  a  white  lady  as  hysteria;  but  which,  in  the 
instance  of  Miss  Smith,  was  simply  her  usual  way  of 
expressing  uncontrollable  joy. 

32 


TRUE   LOVE'S  THE  GIFT 


33 


"See,"  she  cried,  throwing  out  her  arms  wildly. 
"See,  Mister  Graham,  the  Lawd  Gawd  A'mighty  is 
wid  us  po'  sinners!  He  don'  sen'  Mister  Jefferson 
right  heah  to  us.  He's  acomin'  right  heah  now! 
Run,  Mister  Graham,  and  don'  keep  him  awaitin'  at 
dedo'!  Run!" 

She  shooed  the  dignified  James  toward  the  stairs 
with  scant  patience. 

James  had  the  misfortune  to  be  very  black,  while 
Miss  Smith,  through  some  courtesy  of  her  ancestors, 
perhaps,  enjoyed  the  coloring  of  a  light  mulatto,  even 
lighter  than  the  much-feared  Mr.  Jefferson.  It  is  easy, 
therefore,  to  understand  the  superiority  and  natural 
authority  which  the  dusky  widow  exercised  over  the 
less  fortunate  James. 

Suddenly  he  was  forced  to  retrace  his  steps  by  an 
emphatic  pull  upon  his  coat-tails. 

"Mister  Jefferson  don'  cross  de  street.  He  am 
makin'  fo'  de  grand  mansion  of  dat  foreign  queen. 
Heah,  take  yo'  hat,  Mister  Graham,  and  intercede  him 
afor'  he  reaches  de  do'." 

Being  accustomed  to  obey,  James  hurried  thence 
and  managed  to  intercept  the  great  Thomas  of  the 
house  of  the  War  Secretary. 

"What  fo'  do'  yo'  honers  us  by  comin'  dis  way, 
Mister  Jefferson?"  he  asked  very  politely. 

"I  carries  a  note  fo'  Donna  Carima  Astrados," 
answered  that  worthy,  grandly  producing  a  letter. 

"  I  hab  a  little  personal  matter,  'bout  which  I  don' 
spoke  to  yo'  afor';  and  fo'  which  I  feels  under 
great  obligations  to  yo'  a'ready,  sah,"  volunteered 
James  nervously  but  with  determination. 

Mister  Thomas  Jefferson  drew  himself  up,  and  infla- 
3 


34         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

ted  under  the  tremendous  pressure  of  his  importance. 

"Under  what  kinder  consideration  does  yo'  feel 
under  obligations  to  meh,  Mister  Graham?"  queried 
the  all-powerful  Jefferson. 

"Fo'  takin'  inter  deliberation  my  application  fo' 
my  frien',  Mis'  Smith,  to  be  char-lady  in  de  Wo' 
Department,  sah,"  replied  James  most  humbly. 

Thomas  looked  at  his  fellow  servitor  for  a  moment, 
then  said  pompously:  "I'm  considerin'  de  matter, 
Mister  Graham;  but  meh  an'  de  Secretary  has  not 
made  up  our  min's  yet,  sah." 

"I  hopes  yo'll  advise  meh  soon,  Mister  Jefferson," 
suggested  James  even  more  humbly. 

There  was  a  tremendous  pause. 

The  sunshine  peeped  through  the  spreading 
branches  overhead  and  splashed  the  negroes  with 
spots  of  dazzling  light,  while  the  namesake  of  the 
father  of  the  Declaration  of  Independence  weighed 
the  proposition  more  fully  in  his  brain.  Finally  he 
spoke. 

"  I  nebber  talks  bizness  'way  from  my  office,  sah," 
he  said,  striking  the  Secretary's  pet  pose. 

"An'  may  I  be  permissioned  to  'terrigate  yo' 
whar  yo'  office  is,  Mister  Jefferson?"  asked  James, 
a  trifle  flurried  in  the  presence  of  such  dignity. 

Thomas  cast  a  scornful  glance  from  his  round  white 
eyes  upon  the  hopeful  James,  and  observed  with  proud 
condescension:  "I  holds  office  in  de  Secretary's 
kitchen,  sah.  De  want  ob  gentility  in  some  folks 
is  amazin',  sah." 

"No  'ffence,  Mister  Jefferson,"  interposed  James 
fearfully,  rubbing  his  hands  together  and  vainly 
trying  to  conceal  his  nervousness. 


TRUE   LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         35 

"No  'ffence  taken,  Mister  Graham,"  replied  Mr. 
Jefferson  with  overwhelming  affability.  "I  always 
overlook  ignorance  in  gentlemen  ob  yo'  color,  sah." 

"I  is  grateful  fo'  de  permission  to  call  at  yo' 
office,  sah,"  James  said,  concealing  his  wounded  vanity. 

Each  bowed,  James  very  low,  and  went  his  way, 
to  report  to  the  awaiting  lady;  while  Thomas  en- 
tered the  arched  gateway  leading  to  Donna  Carima 
Astrados'  residence.  He  felt  great  interest  in  this 
his  first  visit  to  the  much-talked-of  mansion,  but 
his  thought  was  mostly  filled  with  the  person  of 
Donna  Carima's  serving-man,  whose  name  Thomas  had 
heard  was  Hippolyte  and  whose  indifference  to  the 
colored  society  at  the  Capital  had  marked  him  as  a  man 
worthy  of  interest.  Notwithstanding,  Thomas  rang 
as  imperiously  as  ever  and  at  the  main  entrance.  In- 
stantly the  door  swung  open  and  Hippolyte  stood 
before  him,  a  magnificent  negro.  Before  the  great 
Thomas  was  able  to  state  his  errand,  Hippolyte,  a 
frown  wrinkling  his  splendid  forehead,  was  leading 
the  way  to  a  side  door. 

"This  is  the  servants'  entrance,"  he  said  on  arrival. 
"  What  do  you  wish?"  He  spoke  with  a  soft,  singing 
accent. 

"I  brings  a  letter  fo'  Donna  Carima  Astrados," 
replied  Thomas  with  an  offended  air,  which  was 
lost,  however,  upon  Hippolyte,  "an'  I  wishes  it 
delivered  'mediate  to  de  lady  in  pusson,  an'  I 
waits  fo'  de  answer,  sah." 

"  For  my  Lady."  Hipployte accepted  the  letter  and 
disappeared  from  view. 

Meanwhile,  Mister  Thomas  Jefferson  surveyed 
his  reflection  with  unlimited  satisfaction  in  the  hall 


36         THK  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

mirror,  rearranged  his  hair  and  moustache,  again 
struck  an  attitude  in  excellent  imitation  of  his  master, 
and  by  degrees  his  mighty  self-importance  rcillumined 
his  person.  Interest  in  himself  did  not  pall,  but  a 
disquieting  sensation  made  him  glance  curiously 
along  the  hall.  Apparently  he  was  alone,  and  yet 
he  felt  that  he  was  not  alone,  that  searching  eyes 
were  upon  him,  that — 

With  a  sigh  of  relief  he  welcomed  Hippolyte's 
reappearance  and  without  delay  took  the  pale  violet 
envelope  extended  toward  him,  and  made  an  unusually 
agile  exit. 

Hippolyte  watched  him  disappear  and  closed  the 
door.  There  was  a  sharp  ring  at  the  main  entrance 
and  the  servant  moved  quickly  through  the  great  hall. 
His  gliding  stride  permitted  him  to  cover  ground  in  an 
incredibly  short  time. 

An  instant  later  he  admitted  Brigadier-General 
Leon  Hartley. 

"Donna  Carima  Astrados  is  at  home?"  he  asked. 

"I  will  inquire,  monsieur,"  answered  Hippolyte. 

A  bright  half-dollar  gleamed  in  the  General's 
hand,  but  the  servant  remained  motionless,  with 
tray  extended.  Hartley  raised  his  eyebrows  in 
surprise  and  looked  keenly  at  the  stolid  negro  before 
him.  He  placed  his  card  upon  the  tray  and  entered 
the  beautiful  reception-room,  the  curtains  of  which 
Hippolyte  held  open. 

The  negro's  manner  annoyed  the  officer,  but  he 
shrugged  his  broad  shoulders  and,  smiling  his  remark- 
ably pleasant  smile,  allowed  his  gaze  to  roam  over  the 
room.  As  he  noted  the  great  cost  combined  with  ex- 
quisite harmony  everywhere  displayed,  his  memory 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         37 

turned  back  to  the  simple  and  sombre  settings  of  the 
house  when  it  had  been  the  home  of  the  then  "  young 
Congressman  Randolph,"  whom  he  had  of  ten  visited 
in  his  boyhood  days.  He  was  astonished,  as  he 
observed  that  the  place  now  had  the  air  and  furnish- 
ings of  a  palace. 

The  appearance  of  the  room  led  him  to  reflect  also 
upon  the  story  current  among  the  tradesfolk  of 
Washington  that  the  Southern  Queen's  house  had 
been  furnished  entirely  from  great  vans  which  had  ap- 
peared noiselessly  in  the  night,  and  that  fresh  fruit 
and  vegetables  were  strangely  the  only  purchases 
for  the  household  made  by  Hippolyte.  In  fact 
this  majestic-looking  negro  was  the  one  known  mem- 
ber of  the  household  and  he  had  refused  half  a  dollar! 
Hartley  smiled,  but  his  lips  came  suddenly  to  a 
serious  line.  He  arose  and  walked  to  the  end  of  the 
room.  From  the  rich  tapestries  he  fancied  he  had 
seen  the  glitter  of  eyes,  but  after  examination  he 
became  reassured. 

Again  he  seated  himself,  but  he  felt  eyes  still  upon 
him,  upon  every  part  of  his  body  he  was  conscious  of 
their  gaze;  from  every  direction  he  felt  convinced 
that  eyes  were  watching  him.  Again  he  arose,  but 
this  time  his  thought  was  distracted  by  the  reappear- 
ance of  Hippolyte. 

"My  Lady  will  receive  you,  Monsieur." 

The  officer  and  the  servant  mounted  the  stairs  and 
found  Donna  Carima  Astrados  seated  in  a  great 
carved  chair,  oddly  inlaid  with  mother  of  pearl.  She 
wore  a  gown  of  soft  white  material,  which  hung  in 
long,  close  folds  revealing  only  grace  in  line  and  curve, 
as  it  trailed  on  the  richly  spotted  leopard-skin  be- 


38         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

neath  her  little  silver-clad  feet.  From  her  shoulders 
hung  a  network  of  threaded  brilliants  clasped  with  a 
solitary  ruby  of  great  size.  The  afternoon  sun 
touched  the  lights  in  her  hair  and  seemed  eager  to 
crown  her  radiant  beauty  with  its  magic  rays. 

She  was  every  inch  a  queen. 

Hartley  stepped  toward  her;  she  rose  to  her  feet 
and  received  him  with  a  cordial  greeting. 

"I  couldn't  wait  until  to-morrow,"  he  apologized. 

"I  am  glad,"  Donna  Carima  replied,  displaying  her 
marvellous  charm  of  voice  and  smile  and  movement. 
The  hundred  questions  Hartley  had  phrased  to  ask 
her  died  upon  his  lips. 

"You  are  reading?"  he  said,  touching  the  book 
she  held,  and  inwardly  hating  himself  for  his  cow- 
ardice in  even  momentarily  avoiding  the  subject 
nearest  his  heart. 

"Yes,  I  am  reading  the  life  of  Mary  Queen  of 
Scots,  and  I  am  trying  to  understand  her." 

"Can  you?"  he  asked  curiously,  as  he  accepted 
the  seat  nearest  the  great  chair. 

"No,  not  very  well,"  admitted  Donna  Carima, 
after  an  instant's  thought. 

"Then  you  know  how  you  baffle  me,"  Hartley 
replied  quickly,  leaning  toward  her  and  trying  to 
hold  her  gaze  with  his  own. 

"She  was  a  strange,  wilful,  ardent  woman,"  Donna 
Carima  continued  with  seeming  analysis.  "Yet 
more  like  a  fine,  passionate  boy." 

"Could  you  not  play  her  part?"  asked  the  officer. 

"No,"  she  responded,  "no;  Mary  lived  in  a 
different  age.  She  was  cruel." 

"Perhaps  you,  too,  are  cruel  without  knowing  it," 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         39 

suggested  the  young  General,  noting  the  perfection  of 
each  feature  of  the  lovely  face,  so  expressive  of  ardor 
and  life. 

"No,  I  am  sure  I  am  not,"  replied  Donna  Carima, 
turning  her  eyes  full  upon  him  for  the  first  time. 
They  gradually  beamed  with  laughter. 

"  Why  are  you  opposing  my  treaty?"  she  questioned 
suddenly. 

"How  can  you  ask  that,"  the  General  said  with  a 
start,  "when,  you  kept  your  name  and  your  secret 
so  closely  guarded  at  St.  Augustine?" 

"  St.  Augustine! "  Donna  Carima  repeated  dreamily. 
"I  could  never  remember  that  name,  but  I  remem- 
ber you — ah!  yes,  I  have  often  thought  of  you," 
she  smiled  wistfully  at  him. 

"  Often ! "  he  laughed  hoarsely.  "  Often !  No  doubt, 
it  was  all  play  to  you;  but  why — why  didn't  you 
tell  me  who  you  were?" 

"Come,"  Donna  Carima  urged  softly.  "Don't 
be  angry  with  me!  I  was  a  child  then.  In  these  ten 
weeks  Washington  has  developed  me.  See,  I'm 
quite  a  woman  now." 

She  sprang  up  to  her  full  height  and  spread  out 
her  arms  with  feline  grace,  while  he  gazed  upon  her 
in  frank  admiration. 

"Well,  to  begin  at  the  beginning,"  she  continued, 
resuming  her  chair,  "  the  day  after  I  reached  St.  Au- 
gustine I  realized  that  for  the  first  time  in  my  life  I 
was  my  own  ruler,  and  so  I  crept  out  with  only  my 
beautiful  greyhound,  Leo.  We  had  reached  the 
park,  when  a  horrible  St.  Bernard  jumped  upon 
my  Leo.  I  shouted  his  name  and  you  answered, 
thinking  it  was  you  I  called.  How  vain!"  She 


40         THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

laughed  up  into  his  eyes,  then  became  very  serious 
and  proceeded,  her  voice  deepening  with  feeling. 
"You  saved  my  Leo  from  being  killed  by  the  dog. 
You  said  it  was  the  first  romantic  episode  that  had 
ever  occurred  in  your  life;  and  that  you  wished  that 
morning  out  in  the  sunshine  and  the  flowers  to  last 
forever!" 

Donna  Carima  paused,  her  eyes  shining  with  the 
memory  which  carried  each  back  through  the  pages  of 
the  past  eventful  weeks,  back  to  that  one  morning,  of 
all  the  past  mornings  of  their  lives,  which  had  lived  in 
the  hearts  of  both. 

"I  see  you  do  remember,"  Leon  Hartley  said  softly. 
"Go  on!  I  want  to  match  your  words  and  my 
thoughts.  You  will  never  know  how  I  have  hungered 
for  your  voice." 

She  flushed  rosily  at  his  last  words,  but  obeyed 
him  and  continued :  "  As  I  said  a  few  moments  ago, 
I  was  a  child  then;  and,  with  a  child's  fancy,  I 
suggested  that  we  should  play  the  Lost  Princess  and 
the  Wandering  Prince.  Ah!  Each  day,  as  I  stole 
away  from  Signora  and  Luiza,  by  all  the  artful  fibs 
I  could  conjure  to  aid  me,  I  lived  our  comedy  to  the 
full.  Was  it  not  glorious?" 

"It  was  the  happiest  week  of  my  life,"  sighed  the 
man  in  a  tone  quite  unlike  his  own.  "Go  on — go 
on!  Your  voice  is  music  to  my  weary  soul!" 

Again  the  rose  tints  mounted  to  the  girl's  white 
temples,  and  for  an  instant  her  eyes  dropped,  but  for 
an  instant  only. 

"What  you  did  not  know  was  that  we  were 
watched,  "she  continued,  suddenly  lowering  her  voice. 
"I  left  you  as  I  did  to  save  your  life." 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         41 

Hartley  stared  at  the  beautiful  face  lifted  so  ear- 
nestly to  his.  "Why  should  we  be  watched?"  he 
asked. 

For  answer  Donna  Carima  shook  her  head  and 
smiled  sadly.  Then  she  continued,  her  face  lighting 
with  eagerness  as  she  spoke:  "I  thought  if  I  told 
you  who  I  was  you  might  follow  me." 

"  I  should  certainly  have  done  so." 

"I  had  to  save  you.  Also,  I  realized  that  my 
mission  here  could  not  be  interfered  with.  So  I 
left  St.  Augustine  without  telling  you;  but  I  knew 
that  we  should  meet  again,  and  we  have,"  she  said, 
her  voice  rising  joyously.  "We  have — ah,  I  knew 
it!" 

"How  could  you  know?"  questioned  Hartley  in 
surprise. 

"I  saw  it  in  the  signs,"  Donna  Carima  cried. 
"They  never  err." 

She  caught  the  puzzled  expression  on  his  face,  and 
smiled.  "Some  day,  when  you  come  to  know  my 
people  and  myself,  I  will  teach  you  to  read  them  and 
you  will  understand." 

"You  promise  to  teach  me — some  day,  when  I 
shall  come  to  know  your  people  and  yourself?" 
he  asked  impressively,  gazing  tenderly  into  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  I  promise." 

For  a  moment  he  forgot  all  else  but  the  deep 
orbs  which  held  his  own  like  magnets.  Could  he 
ever  fathom  their  depths?  Suddenly  their  soft 
light  changed  to  a  darkening  glow.  "  You  are  going 
to  continue  to  fight  my  treaty — now?"  she  asked. 

"No,"  replied  Hartley  with  determination. 

Again  she  smiled  at  him  half-shyly,  half-frankly. 


42         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"  I  was  not  mistaken/'  she  said  very  low,  and  the  note 
of  confidence  thrilled  the  officer  with  a  keen  joy. 

"  Ah,  trust  me,  sweet  Queen,"  he  said  softly, "  I  shall 
work  for  you  now.  But — you  make  an  important 
request.  You  would  establish  a  precedent,  involving 
great  problems  of  state  and  the  Monroe  Doctrine." 

"What  is  the  Monroe  Doctrine?"  asked  Donna 
Carima  naively. 

"It  covers  everything  we  want  to  possess,"  said 
Hartley. 

"Including  me?"  inquired  Donna  Carima. 

"I  hope  so,"  replied  the  young  General. 

There  was  a  pause. 

"It  appears  unpatriotic,  perhaps,  for  the  United 
States  to  recognize  and  aid  a  sovereignty,  but  my 
people  are  not  ready  for  self-government.  They 
would  only  abuse  the  power.  They  believe  in  me, 
and  their  chance  of  salvation  lies  in  my  person."  In- 
tensely earnest,  impressively  intense  was  the  plea 
spoken  by  Donna  Carima  Astrados  and,  strong  man 
as  he  was,  General  Hartley  felt  the  truth  and  sincerity 
of  the  speaker. 

"I  will  work  for  you,"  he  said  simply. 

"  And  your  principles?"  smilingly  questioned  Donna 
Carima,  again  the  woman  only. 

"  You  are  the  only  one  I  have  ever  loved,"  answered 
General  Hartley  hoarsely,  "and  love  is  principal." 

For  several  moments  neither  spoke;  the  girl  toyed 
undecidedly  with  the  superb  diamond  locket  which 
hung  on  a  chain  of  brilliants  suspended  around  her 
neck.  Suddenly  she  detached  it  from  the  chain  and 
handed  it  to  him. 

"Open  it;  then  hold  it  to  the  light,"  she  said. 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         43 

"  Is  this  the  famous  locket  ?  "  Hartley  asked  with 
interest. 

Donna  Carima  nodded  assent. 

He  opened  it,  and  there,  smiling  up  at  him,  were 
the  baby  faces  of  a  boy  and  a  girl. 

"Now  hold  it  to  the  light,"  she  commanded. 

As  he  obeyed,  the  faces  changed  into  that  of  a 
smiling  and  beautiful  woman  and  the  strong  features 
of  a  man,  while  soft  dreamy  eyes  seemed  to  contra- 
dict the  sternness  of  his  face. 

"What  an  odd  thing!  What  does  it  mean?"  he 
asked,  still  gazing  on  the  miniature. 

"It  was  made  for  me  by  a  Greek  artist  who  once 
visited  my  father,"  Donna  Carima  said.  "The  lady 
is  my  mother." 

"She  is  very  beautiful,"  interposed  the  General. 

"Yes,"  answered  Donna  Carima  softly.  "She 
has  always  been  famous  for  her  beauty.  She  married 
very  young,  but  the  union  was  unhappy.  Her  hus- 
band was  unkind — brutal." 

There  was  a  pause,  as  though  the  speaker's  thought 
was  interrupted  by  some  memory  too  terrible  to 
relate.  Her  lips  closed  firmly,  but  an  instant  later  she 
spoke  again:  "A  son  was  born,  rather  against  her 
desire.  That  is  the  boy,"  she  added,  lowering  the 
locket  until  the  faces  of  the  children  again  came  to 
view.  "When  her  child  was  two  years  of  age,  she 
met  my  father,  who  was  travelling  in  this  country 
incognito." 

"  Then  she  was  an  American?"  interrupted  Hartley. 

"Oh,  yes." 

"That  explains,"  said  the  officer,  "why,  though 
of  foreign  birth,  there  are  moments  when  you  appear 


44         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

to  be  only  a  simple  American  girl.    The  contrast  has 
puzzled  me." 

Donna  Carima  smiled,  and  continued,  for  the  first 
time  forming  in  words  her  parent's  history.  "My 
mother  soon  discovered  that  my  father  was  the  one 
man  for  whom  she  had  been  created.  She  told  her 
husband  of  her  love  and  of  her  lover,  and  asked  for 
her  freedom.  He  refused.  Then  she  went  to  her 
father,  who  adored  her;  he,  also,  refused  to  help 
her,  and  plead  the  cause  of  her  boy.  She  had  always 
been  indulged  in  every  whim  and,  after  months  of 
struggle  between  her  child  and  her  lover,  she  took 
the  baby  to  her  father,  placed  him  in  his  arms,  and 
said  she  had  decided  that  love  was  more  to  her  than 
child  or  home.  Her  father  accepted  the  charge  of  the 
boy  and  replied  kindly,  'My  daughter,  you  have  made 
your  choice,  but  if  you  find  you  are  mistaken  again, 
return  to  your  father. ' ' 

"And  did  she?"  questioned  Hartley,  intensely 
interested. 

Donna  Carima  lifted  her  beautiful  head  proudly. 
"Certainly  not!"  she  exclaimed.  "The  other  child 
there  is  myself  when  I  was  five." 

Silence  reigned  for  some  time.  The  man  understood. 

"  Then  your  father  and  mother  were  never — mar- 
ried?" he  asked  slowly. 

"No,"  answered  the  girl  lightly.  "My  mother 
was  obliged  to  sever  every  link  of  communication 
with  her  family,  because  her  former  husband  threat- 
ened such  terrible  things  if  he  discovered  her  where- 
abouts. One  year  after  she  had  settled  at  Sylva 
Loleta,  our  estate,  she  sent  Staphno,  a  trusted  ser- 
vant of  much  intelligence,  to  journey  to  her  old  home 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         45 

and  bring  tidings  of  her  son,  but  Staphno  was  lost 
at  sea,  and  the  priests  said  it  was  the  interposition 
of  God.  Therefore,  she  learned  nothing  about  those 
she  had  left." 

"Strange,  you  should  tell  me  this  in  this  house!" 
said  Hartley,  succumbing  to  the  romance,  as  her 
voice  thrilled  over  him.  "  Just  such  a  story  happened 
here." 

"  Just  such  a  story  has  happened  in  every  part  of  the 
world  and  in  all  times,"  answered  Donna  Carima, 
looking  dreamily  through  the  open  window  upon  the 
awakening  buds,  and  quite  unconscious  of  the  uncon- 
ventionality  of  her  narrative. 

"But  for  you,  for  your  sake,  they  should  care!" 
the  General  cried  with  sudden  warmth,  and  without 
endeavoring  to  conceal  the  indignation  in  his  heart. 

"For  me?"  Donna  Carima  asked,  opening  her  eyes 
in  surprise,  with  that  sudden  contraction  and  ex- 
pansion of  the  pupils  so  strangely  characteristic  of  her. 
"No.  Their  life  is  their  own — mine  is  my  own. 
My  mother  taught  me  one  law :  'Be  true  to  thyself.' " 
She  shook  her  lovely  head  to  accentuate  her  convic- 
tion. "But  to  return  to  St.  Augustine,"  she  said 
suddenly;  "what  did  you  think  when  I  no  longer 
came  to  the  gardens?" 

"  Think !  I  went  utterly  mad.  You  were  so  bright, 
so  beautiful,  out  there  in  the  open!  I  had  never 
known  that  birds  and  flowers  and  fields  really  existed, 
except  by  name,  until  you  taught  me.  Strange  how 
one  woman  alone  can  bring  forth  the  romance  of  life 
in  a  man,  and  leave  all  else  in  shadow.  Do  you  re- 
member how  you  scolded  me  for  stealing  those  birds' 
eggs,  and  I  thought  they  would  please  you?  Ah! 


46         THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

I  was  a  boy  again !  I  saw  all  the  beauty,  the  purity  of 
life.  Then  you  came  no  more,  and  I  suffered  agonies. 
Everything  grew  intolerable.  I  craved  you — you, 
you!  How  could  you  leave  me  when  you  knew  the 
great  love  you  had  awakened?  Why,  I  would  sell 
my  soul  for  your  love!"  he  cried,  with  a  passionate 
force  which  seemed  to  hold  her  spell-bound. 

The  rose  which  Donna  Carima  had  drawn  from  a 
vase  near  her  fell  suddenly  upon  the  floor;  she  sat 
quite  still,  however,  her  eyes  growing  darker  with 
each  passing  moment,  while  the  color  slowly  receded 
from  her  cheeks. 

"You  must  not  love  me — no,  no!"  she  said, 
rising  and  drawing  away  from  him,  as  though  a  pro- 
found fear  underlay  her  thought.  "You — you  do 
not  understand;  but,  believe  me,  you  must  not  love 
me." 

"Must  not!  What  can  you  mean?"  asked  the 
young  General,  rising  also  and  taking  her  hand,  as 
though  in  protection  even  from  her  thoughts. 

She  spoke  calmly,  but  the  lips  through  which  the 
words  passed  were  ashen  and  the  hand  he  clung  to  was 
icy-cold. 

And  once  more  she  said :    ' '  You  must  not  love  me ! " 

This  time  agony  twisted  her  face,  and  she  could  no 
longer  conceal  her  pain  and  mental  conflict.  She 
clutched  the  back  of  the  high  chair  beside  her,  as 
if  to  support  herself.  Then  she  looked  at  Leon 
Hartley  and  tried  to  smile.  Whatever  she  may  have 
expected  to  see  in  him,  the  smile  vanished  and  she 
trembled  visibly.  Upon  his  face  she  read  the  different 
meanings  he  had  given  to  her  words;  intuitively  she 
saw  how  doubt  and  wonder  in  his  mind  were  born; 


TRUE  LOVE'S  THE  GIFT         47 

how  terror  grew  into  life;  and  then  how  a  sublime 
faith  overcame  all  else,  until  he  cried : 

"I  love  you!" 

And,  to  his  surprise,  she  came  to  him  and  placed 
her  hands  in  his  and  said,  so  simply  that  he  doubted 
if  he  could  have  heard  aright: 

"I  gave  you  my  heart  the  first  day  we  met." 

"Then  what  can  part  us?"  he  pleaded  with  des- 
perate eagerness.  "I  love  you  with  my  whole  soul. 
I  lay  my  heart  at  your  feet  to  ennoble  or  to  crush!  I 
care  not  who  you  are,  nor  for  the  story  that  your 
locket  tells.  You  are  the  one  woman  in  all  life  to  me. ' ' 

Something  in  Donna  Carima  Astrados  changed. 
Mutely  the  imperialism  of  her  personality  asserted 
itself. 

"The  cause  which  makes  love  impossible  between 
us,  now  and  forever,"  she  said,  "  is  greater  than  con- 
vention, stronger  than  even  love.  It  is  a  great  hu- 
man cause,  crying  for  recognition  into  Christian 
faith,  not  from  two  aching  hearts  like  yours  and 
mine,  but  from  thousands  of  individuals,  most  of 
whom  are  too  ignorant  to  know  their  own  great  piti- 
ful sorrow.  I  ask  you  in  the  name  of  your  God,  who 
is  also  mine,  neither  to  love  me  nor  to  tempt  me  with 
your  love.  We  must  never  meet  again — like  this," 
she  hurried  on;  "but  the  knowledge  of  your  love 
shall  bring  forth  only  the  best  in  me.  I  ask  one 
favor — leave  me  without  questioning." 

Tears  glistened  upon  her  long  lashes,  but  she  smiled 
divinely  through  them.  The  man  rose  to  his  feet 
and  took  her  hands  between  his  own  very  tenderly. 

"With  the  beautiful  hope  your  words  have  given 
me,  you  demand  too  much.  I  will  ask  no  questions, 


48         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

but  do  you  know  that  it  is  almost  as  difficult  to  con- 
trol the  material  through  the  spiritual  as  it  is  to  ex- 
press the  spiritual  through  the  material?  Still,  we 
will  both  try,  as  you  have  willed  it." 

"God  has  willed  it,"  said  Carima  Astrados  firmly. 
"Good-by." 

Each  smiled  courage  to  the  other. 

Donna  Carima  sat  for  some  time  where  he  had 
left  her.  Her  whole  being  seemed  stirred  beyond  any 
depths  she  had  ever  known.  He  loved  her!  He 
loved  her,  and  she  loved  him.  What  else  mattered? 
They  loved  with  the  best,  the  finest  in  them! 

"Perhaps  we  will  never  meet  again,"  she  thought, 
with  a  hopeless  little  laugh.  "Still,  how  beautiful  it 
is  to  love  and  to  be  loved!" 


CHAPTER  V 

WARNING! 

The  firelight  sparkled  upon  two  women  gazing 
inquiringly  into  the  wonders  of  its  blaze.  Silence 
reigned  for  several  moments,  while  the  fire  flamed 
forth  with  redoubled  ardor  at  the  attention  of  its 
audience.  As  though  exhausted  by  the  effort,  it 
slowly  subsided,  until,  gasping  pathetically  as  for  life, 
the  red  embers  died  quite  out  of  sight  and  the  logs 
lay  black  and  apparently  dead.  A  low  sigh  escaped 
the  elder  woman,  while  a  little  laugh  from  the  younger 
startled  the  silence. 

"Of  what  are  you  thinking,  sweet  youth,  and 
why  do  you  laugh?"  asked  Anne  Aymington — 
Mrs.  Chester,  for  it  was  no  less  a  person  than  the 
distinguished  artist  herself.  She  caressed  the  soft 
hair  of  Donna  Carima,  who  lounged  alluringly  at 
her  feet;  her  head  nestled  childlike  upon  Mrs. 
Chester's  knee,  her  elbow  pillowed  luxuriously  upon 
a  cushion. 

"I  was  thinking  of  what  women  always  think — 
love!  No,  what  many  people  mistake  for  love — 
the  master  of  humanity — King  Passion!  And  I 
laughed  at  the  fire,  now  a  black  log,  and  also  at  men 
and  women.  How  eagerly,  how  madly  they  love! 
How  they  give  their  best,  their  all,  for  this  love!  How 
it  burns  forth  in  its  splendid  flame  and  swears  and 
hopes  and  longs  to  do  so  eternally!  Then,  just  at  its 

4  49 


50         THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

height — its  most  exquisite  height — it  falters,  it 
breaks,  it  wanes,  and  at  last  lies  dead  just  as  our 
log  now  lies! 

"But  wait,"  cried  Donna  Carima,  suddenly 
springing  up.  "Wait,"  and  she  pressed  the  bell, 
which  echoed  through  the  distant  hall.  "Wait," 
she  repeated,  as  a  sudden  smile  curved  her  red  lips, 
"until  Hippolyte  orders  fresh  fuel — a  fresh  inspira- 
tion— and  our  log  like  our  love  will  awaken,  cast 
back  in  flickering  effort  a  regret  or  two  and  then  burn 
as  brightly  as  before,  if  not  more  brilliantly. 
That's  why  I  laugh,  because,  knowing  all  this,  I  be- 
lieve in  love." 

Mrs.  Chester  looked  into  the  girl's  face  curiously. 

"I  thought  a  queen  had  little  leisure  to  think  of 
love,"  she  said,  smiling;  for,  though  she  had  come  to 
love  Donna  Carima,  she  felt  keenly,  and  in  many 
ways,  the  mystery  surrounding  this  beautiful  girl  who 
claimed  to  be  a  ruler. 

"A  queen  is  like  other  w^omen,  only  her  heart  is 
likely  to  be  crushed  by  duty's  hands,"  sighed  the  girl 
in  answer.  "It  is  difficult  to  understand  this  in 
America,  where  all  are  free." 

"As  neither  of  your  parents  ascended  the  throne, 
by  what  succession  are  you  Queen?"  questioned  Anne 
Aymington  with  delicate  timidity,  for  it  was  the  first 
time  she  had  suggested  the  question. 

"  My  father  is  of  the  royal  house  of  Spain,  and  I  am 
therefore  royal  by  right  of  birth,"  replied  Carima, 
"but  my  true  sovereignty  rests  in  the  fact  that  the 
native  element  of  my  people  chose  me,  when  a  babe, 
to  reign  over  them.  Later  the  Catholic  Church 
and  her  followers,  realizing  my  power,  offered  their 


WARNING!  51 

allegiance  on  condition  that  I  relinquish  my  sympa- 
thies for  my  people  and  submit  to  the  dictates  of 
their  creed.  But  with  my  maturer  years  had  come 
the  knowledge  that  a  supreme  and  independent 
force  was  necessary  to  control  and  unite  all  these 
conflicting  and  now  warring  factions  which  are 
destroying  my  beautiful  isle.  It  is  with  the  hope  of 
securing  the  means  to  accomplish  this  end  that  I 
came  here,  but  first  my  sovereignty  must  be  recog- 
nized by  the  President." 

This  explanation  Donna  Carima  made  freely,  but 
Anne  Aymington  realized  that  further  questioning 
would  be  likely  to  prove  fruitless  and  only  increase 
the  net  of  mystery  which  enfolded  the  hidden  secret 
of  the  young  Queen's  life. 

There  was  silence  for  some  time  between  them. 

"Why  did  you  sigh?"  suddenly  questioned  Donna 
Carima. 

"Your  remarks  upon  life  are  not  the  result  of  ob- 
servation," said  Mrs.  Chester  tenderly.  "But  I 
know  their  truth  from  my  own  experience  too  well. 
Nothing  lasts,  from  the  world's  seasons  to  its  hu- 
man hearts — all  change  with  time.  Whether  it  be 
the  work  of  artist,  author,  poet,  musician,  or  that  of 
the  poorest  peasant-mother,  each  and  all  work  for  the 
development  of  their  creation,  and  yet  how  seldom 
any  attain  complete  satisfaction!"  Mrs.  Chester 
smiled  faintly,  and  caressed  Donna  Carima's  upturned 
cheek. 

"No,  sweet  one,"  she  went  on,  "the  only  love, 
the  only  thought  that  endures,  that  can  endure,  is  the 
universal  love,  the  universal  thought,  without 
reward,  without  future  or  past,  but  with  the  com- 


52         THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

fort,  and  the  certainty  of  eternity!  Bernhardt  says: 
'  Tout  lasse,  tout  casse  et  tout  passe. ' ' 

"Why  do  you  speak  so,  dear  Mrs.  Chester?"  cried 
Donna  Carima.  "You,  the  brilliant,  the  successful! 
You  surely  have  naught  to  complain  of?  You  and 
I  have  grown  so  near  to  one  another;  tell  me  your 
real  thoughts,  as  I  tell  you  mine.  I  believe  in  truth, 
in  man.  It  is  convention  and  man's  false  laws 
which  are  at  fault." 

"You  see  deeply,  dear  one,"  interrupted  the  elder 
woman.  "It  is  convention  that  smothers  all  the 
greatness,  the  best  in  our  natures."  She  arose  in 
sudden  tremulous  excitement.  "Yes,  it  is  the 
social  law,"  she  continued  fiercely,  "that  murdered 
my  art,  and  I  had  some  art,  some  real  art!"  She 
suddenly  threw  her  arms  passionately  around  the  girl 
beside  her.  "And  you  are  just  wonderful  enough 
for  convention  to  wind  her  bitter  coils  around  you,  too, 
and  choke  your  genius,  until  it  gasps  weakly  for  life, 
then  leave  it,  a  helpless  pleading  thing,  far  worse 
than  dead!  Ah!  Yes,  I'll  tell  you  what  I  mean. 
Sit  here  again  at  my  feet."  She  drew  her  youthful 
comrade  close  to  her,  as  she  talked  on,  with  increasing 
intensity.  "  I  love  you,  dear,  and  I  fear  so  for  you. 
I  was  once  a  girl  like  you,  yet  with  only  half  your 
attributes.  I  had  travelled  a  great  deal  with  my 
father;  then  I  began  to  have  artistic  aspirations,  but 
I  met  with  scant  success."  She  dropped  her  com- 
panion's hand  unconsciously  and  gazed  into  the  new- 
born blaze.  "  Then  I  met  a  man  who  taught  me  life, 
who  encouraged,  who  inspired  me,  who  made  me 
work  more  seriously;  and  I  had  sudden  wonderful 
success!  Every  stroke  of  my  brush  throbbed  and 


WARNING!  53 

pulsed  with  truth.  It  was  my  soul's  awakening 
painted  upon  canvas!  For  five  happy  years  we 
lived  and  worked  and  grew,  until  we  produced  our 
one  great  work, l  The  Rainbow.' 

"We  had  worked  so  hard,  so  faithfully,  that  my 
health  failed,  and  we  sailed  away  with  happy  hearts 
to  distant  Egypt.  The  complete  rest  and  the  grand- 
eur of  the  scene  restored  me.  What  a  happy,  happy 
voyage  it  was!  I  am  so  glad  it  was  so  happy,"  she 
murmured  half  to  herself,  "because  it  was  our  last. 
We  returned;  but  not  to  the  triumph  we  had  anti- 
cipated! The  story  of  my  heart,  Carima,  is  known 
to  few,  and  I  have  not  spoken  of  it  for  many  years; 
but  now,  to  you,  I  open  the  sad  pages,  that  you  may 
not  err  as  I  have  done,  but  when,  as  I  foresee,  the 
day  of  trial  comes  to  you,  you  may  choose  wisely, 
that  Ls,  for  love,  for  there  is  nothing  else  in  life! 

"Our  love  was  so  real,  so  true,  Carima,  there  was 
no  thought  of  past  or  future  in  it.  We  lived  for  each 
day  only,  and  for  our  work.  I  knew  there  had  been 
another  woman  in  his  life,  to  whom,  in  an  evil  hour, 
he  had  given  the  right  to  bear  his  name.  He  had  made 
a  mistake,  as  many  men  and  women  do  through 
ignorance,  and  he  had  paid  dearly,  as  all  do  for 
ignorance.  She  held  him  to  the  letter  of  his  bond, 
and  when  she  heard  of  my  picture,  she  threatened 
terrible  things.  How  her  words  burnt  into  my  brain 
and  seared  my  heart!" 

She  paused  and  then  continued. 

"But  he  chose  for  me,  my  brave  comrade.  He 
gave  me  up  to  appease  duty's  wrath  and  to  stay  an 
evil  tongue.  Our  decision  was  that  we  should  sacrifice 
our  love  to  our  child — '  The  Rainbow ' — and  by  this 


54         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

act  consecrate  our  all  to  art.  I  was  to  produce 
great  works,  and  he  was  to  be  content,  as  he  saw  the 
harvest  garnered.  I  consented;  I  gave  him  up!" 

There  was  a  little  choking  in  Mrs.  Chester's  voice, 
as  she  went  on:  "God  grant  you  may  never  know 
what  my  words  mean.  So  the  story  of  my  unac- 
knowledged love  was  not  spread  broadcast  to  evil 
gossip;  and  that  love,  which  had  fostered  the  power 
that  enabled  me  to  give  to  the  world  the  richest 
fruit  of  myself,  was  not  condemned  by  the  world  and 
scorned.  Ah,  dear,  it  was  a  tragic  realization.  It 
seemed  to  crush  the  best  in  me  into  a  longing  for  re- 
venge and  a  desire  to  make  the  false,  hypocritical 
world  accept  my  picture  and  repay  its  price — my 
heart's  blood!" 

Donna  Carima  interrupted. 

"  But  it  has ;  it  is  the  most  wonderful  painting  of  the 
century!  The  greatest  artists  have  said  so." 

The  famous  woman  smiled  sadly. 

"Yes,  now,"  she  murmured.  Then,  with  a  little 
catch  in  her  breath,  she  hurried  on :  "  The  rest,  dear 
one,  is  so  like  a  dream — I  cannot  remember  quite 
clearly.  Some  time  later  I  married  Harold  Chester. 
He  admired  my  work  and  has  been  a  kind  husband." 
She  sighed  wearily.  Then  her  voice  rose  in  agitation : 

"But,  Carima,  you  do  not  understand  yet.  Has 
anything  convention  has  yet  returned  to  me  repaid 
the  price  I  have  paid?  No  one  can  understand, 
except  the  one  who  has  endured  the  loneliness,  the 
heart-hunger,  aroused  by  the  glitter  of  a  moonlit 
hour,  the  soft  caress  of  a  Southern  night,  the  reckless 
kiss  of  a  wave  on  the  beach,  the  rose  breath  of  spring, 
the  glow  of  summer,  the  sigh  of  autumn!  Nature 


WARNING!  55 

seems  to  shower  passionate  kisses  on  every  living 
thing  but  myself.  And  I — I  sweep  on  in  my  velvet 
gown,  in  my  Siberian  sables,  and  I  envy  the  maiden 
walking  hand  in  hand  with  the  peasant  of  her  choice, 
the  'Any  and  'Arriet  at  the  seashore,  and  the  girl  of 
fashion  smiling  into  the  eyes  of  her  betrothed !  And 
I  ask  myself,  again  and  yet  again,  every  day  and 
every  night,  have  I  chosen  well?  Have  I  chosen 
well?" 

Donna  Carima  clasped  the  white  hand  near  her 
own  and  pressed  her  lips  upon  it;  then,  as  she 
raised  her  face,  their  eyes  met  and  spoke  silently  to 
one  another,  In  that  one  moment,  each  read  and 
understood  the  intense  nature  of  the  other. 

"You  must  let  me  help  you,"  pleaded  Donna 
Carima  tenderly. 

"No,  dear,  no,"  answered  Mrs.  Chester  quickly, 
shaking  her  head.  "After  we  parted,  I  lived  on 
with  never  a  word  or  sign  from  him,  until  last  week. 
Then  he  wrote  that  he  was  free;  but  I — ah,  the 
clock  is  striking!  I  must  go.  Mr.  Chester  and  I 
sail  for  Europe  early  to-morrow.  We  leave  for  New 
York  to-night.  Good-by,  my  sweet,  grand  girl! 
I  don't  know  when  we  shall  meet  again;  but  take  and 
keep  the  happiness  God  sends  you,  when  it  comes,  and 
remember,  I  shall  always  love  you  next  to — him!" 

"But,  dearest  Mrs.  Chester,"  breathed  Donna  Ca- 
rima impulsively,  "  stay — stay  here  with  me  and  take 
the  happiness  Gods  sends  to  you,  now  that  it  has  re- 
turned." 

The  woman  hesitated,  as  if  hope  again  trembled 
in  her  heart,  but  she  conquered  the  thought  and  grew 
resolute. 


56         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"No,  convention  won."  She  pressed  her  lips 
firmly.  "I  bowed  to  her,  and  I  must  remain  a 
slave  unto  the  end."  The  sad,  sensitive  face  sud- 
denly convulsed  with  fear.  "  I  am  so  afraid  of  meet- 
ing him  again.  I  must  get  away — in  the  darkness. 
My  heart  would  stop,  if  my  eyes  met  his  and  they 
still  reflected  the  story  of  our — Rainbow!" 

She  paused  in  retrospect,  and  her  glance  had  a 
far-away  look,  as  it  fell  upon  the  pictures  in  the  fire. 

"It  cannot  be — now.  It  must  not  be — now," 
she  mused. 

Mrs.  Chester  moved  slowly  to  the  door;  then  turned 
back  nervously. 

"Good-by,"  she  said  softly;  "my  lips  have  touched 
joy  again  in  pressing  yours,  but  I  must  run  away!" 

She  placed,  for  an  instant,  her  cold  lips  to  the 
crimson  mouth  of  the  girl-queen  and  was  gone. 


CHAPTER  VI 

L'AMITIE  DBS  FEMMES,   C'EST  COMME  L'EAU  DANS 
UN  PANIER 

Donna  Carima  sank  into  a  chair.  She  felt  weighed 
clown  by  all  the  suffering  of  the  world.  Her  alert 
brain  lived  scene  after  scene  of  Anne  Aymington's 
life,  as  her  sympathetic  imagination  wove  it  before 
her  hi  vivid  mental  pictures.  Her  sensitive  face 
answered  each  thought,  from  the  delight  of  joy  down 
to  the  cross  of  agony.  She  was  recalled  to  reality, 
however,  by  the  bright  voice  of  Ellice  Courtney, 
who  rushed  hi  upon  her,  in  her  usual  all-pervading 
manner,  which,  in  one  with  less  charm  and  witchery, 
would  have  been  decidedly  noisy. 

Little  Miss  Courtney  had  only  known,  hi  her  short 
life,  flattery  and  encouragement,  never  restraint  nor 
check.  She  had  always  found  life  "great  fun"  and, 
never  looking  for  the  shadows,  never  saw  them. 
She  adored  her  father;  and  all  the  rest  of  the  world 
had  been  a  playground  for  her  amusement,  until 
Donna  Carima  Astrados  came  into  her  life.  Indeed, 
this  uncommon  newcomer  was  Ellice's  ideal,  and  a 
strange  friendship  had  sprung  up  between  them. 
To  Carima,  Ellice  was  one  of  the  ever-welcome  sun- 
beams of  life.  She  smiled  now,  as  she  heard  the 
young  girl's  voice,  and  compared  her  to  the  woman 
in  her  thoughts. 

"God  must  be  of  many  moods,"  she  murmured, 

57 


58         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"if  such  contradictions  of  expressions  are  the  crea- 
tions of  his  thought.  Ah,  my  laughing  heart!" 
she  called,  holding  out  her  arms  and  enfolding  joy- 
ously the  dainty  little  girl  who  unceremoniously 
rushed  into  them  with  a  laugh. 

"You  darling!"  cried  Ellice,  "I  have  tried  to  get 
here  for  two  days,  but  I  couldn't.  I  want  to  talk 
to  you  about  Mrs.  Randolph's.  Oh!  I  said  all  sorts 
of  nice  things  about  you  at  the  reception,  but  I 
couldn't  find  out  any  real  news.  It  was  so  dull. 
Mrs.  Randolph  gave  them  the  old  story  about  King 
Leopold  and  you." 

The  little  conspirator  pouted  her  disappointment. 

"You  didn't  show  any  great  amount  of  boredom, 
if  I  remember  correctly,"  smiled  Donna  Carima 
teasingly. 

"No,  I  seldom  show  my  feelings,"  laughed  the 
girl,  as  she  chatted  on.  "I  am  so  glad  to  see  you, 
and  I  have  some  news  anyway.  I  have  had  such 
fun  to-day — such  fun!"  cried  Ellice,  burying  her 
face  on  Donna  Carima's  shoulder  and  laughing 
uncontrollably  in  girlish  excitement.  "Please  don't 
be  angry  with  me.  I  had  to  do  it;  it  was  such  fun! " 

Her  face  was  glowing  with  merriment,  as  she  sprang 
up  and  looked  at  the  clock. 

"She  will  be  here  soon  now,"  she  exclaimed. 

"Who  will  be  here?"  asked  Donna  Carima  with 
interest. 

"Whom  do  you  think  I've  invited?"  questioned 
the  mischievous  girl,  and,  not  waiting  for  an  answer, 
she  hurried  to  explain: 

"I  couldn't  invite  her  to  my  house;  father  forbade 
me.  Guess  who  it  is — guess,  guess,  guess!" 


L'AMITIE'  DES  FEMMES          59 

She  cknced  wildly  around  her  hostess,  laughing 
joyously  all  the  time,  until  finally  Donna  Carima 
caught  her  firmly  by  the  arm. 

"Tell  me  what  you  are  talking  about,  you  little 
imp  of  mischief!" 

"  Well,"  said  Ellice,  sinking  upon  Donna  Carima's 
lap  and  kissing  her,  "I  was  lunching  with  Count 
Flambeau." 

"  Alone?    Were  you  alone  with  Count  Flambeau?  " 

"Oh,  he's  just  an  old  man,"  explained  the  little 
miss,  "and  he  asked  me  to  step  into  the  Willard 
Hotel  to  have  some  terrapin  and — and  who  do  you 
imagine  came  over  to  speak  to  him?" 

"My  imagination  fails  me  before  such  gigantic 
demands,"  protested  Donna  Carima. 

"Linda  Loving!"  declared  Ellice  excitedly,  "Oh, 
you  know  how  I  have  longed  to  know  her!  Well, 
the  Count  introduced  us,  and  I  told  her  you  had  tea 
at  four- thirty,  and  that  you  were  anxious  to  have 
her  call." 

Donna  Carima  remained  silent,  staring  upon  the 
joyous  little  face,  spellbound  horror  glowing  in  her 
eyes. 

"Linda  Loving!"  she  exclaimed  at  last,  "that 
lobbyist  woman?  Oh,  my  dear,  this  is  terrible!" 

But  the  concern  in  both  voice  and  eyes  gradually 
melted  as  she  gazed  upon  the  graceful  little  peti- 
tioner before  her. 

For  innocence  had  a  privilege  in  her 
To  dignify  arch  jests  and  laughing  eyes. 

It  was  impossible  to  hold  resentment  against  such 
daring  saucy  roguishness,  and  seeing  the  sudden 
change  from  smiles  to  tears,  though  they  were  but 


60        THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

shining  drops,  bearing  no  kindred  to  the  discoloring 
marks  of  a  truly  sorrowing  heart,  Donna  Carima's 
ever-vivid  sympathy  forgave,  and  she  hastened  to 
console  her  little  guest : 

"  Come,  dear,  dry  the  bright  jewels  that  burden  your 
lashes,  and  we  will  receive  the  lady.  We  will  enjoy  our 
new-found  plaything  and  trust  no  one  finds  us  out." 

Smiles  again  dimpled  the  young  girl's  face  with 
redoubled  lustre. 

"And  you  are  not  really  angry?  Because  if  you 
are,  we  won't  receive  her,"  Ellice  said  reluctantly. 

It  was  a  great  temptation  to  refuse  the  child ;  but 
indulgence  conquered  the  whisper  of  intuition  and 
Ellice  was  pacified. 

"I  have  something  else  to  tell  you,"  she  gurgled 
with  delight,  again  cuddling  down  into  Donna 
Carima's  arms  until  only  the  shining  head  remained 
visible;  but,  just  as  suddenly,  the  bright  eyes  were 
raised  and  the  bubbling,  teasing,  happy  laughter 
echoed  through  the  room. 

"  What  a  little  witch  you  are! "  cried  Donna  Carima. 

She  took  the  girl's  face  tenderly  between  her  hands 
and  laughed  in  sheer  sympathy,  as  she  surveyed 
questioningly  the  bewitching  face  alight  with  mischief. 

"What  a  dangerous  little,  creature,  too,  and  all 
unconscious  of  the  harm  and  good  you  do!"  thought 
Donna  Carima;  but  Ellice  did  not  know  the  thought, 
for  her  hostess  kissed  the  soft  upturned  lips  fondly. 

Ellice,  meanwhile,  had  drawn  a  folded  sheet  of 
tinted  paper  from  her  golden  hand-bag. 

"I'll  show  you,"  she  said  and  smiled,  again  creating 
a  volcanic  eruption  in  dimple-land,  while  a  warm 
blush  flooded  her  face  and  neck. 


L'AMITIE  DES  FEMMES          61 

"It  is  a  love-letter,"  whispered  Donna  Carima 
reproachfully.  Ellice  shook  her  curly  head  vigor- 
ously in  protest. 

"Yes,"  insisted  Donna  Carima,  "a  passionate  love- 
letter  from— Nick  Worthington!" 

The  little  girl's  eyes  became  very  serious  at  the 
mention  of  the  name;  then  she  smiled  gravely  up 
into  her  friend's  face. 

"No,"  she  answered.  "Nick  has  scarcely  made 
any  love  to  me  since  you  came.  He  is  all  changed." 

"Nonsense!"  cried  Donna  Carima,  laughing  in- 
credulously. 

"Yes,"  continued  Ellice,  "but  I  don't  mind,  as  it's 
you;  and  then — I  know  you  don't  love  him,"  she 
added,  evidently  dissecting  each  heart  in  turn. 
"  But  Linda  Loving  is  sweet  on  him,  always  has  been, 
and  I  have  heard  some  pretty  queer  stories  about  their 
first  acquaintance.  But  that  was  all  over  when  I 
met  him." 

She  sighed  with  worldly  wisdom  and  rattled  on: 
"  I  never  bothered  about  it,  because  one  can't  expect 
too  much  of  a  man  anyway.  And  then,  when  you 
appeared — I  just  threw  the  dice  and  said, — 'I  lose!'  " 

"My  fanciful  girl!  No  one  hi  the  world  could  be 
preferred  to  my  sunny  heart,"  said  Donna  Carima 
tenderly,  and  drew  the  girl  more  closely  to  her. 

Ellice  flashed  her  a  wistful  little  smile  by  way  of 
answer,  and  continued:  "Ah,  yes,  it  is  only  too  true. 
Nick  is  quite  changed,"  she  repeated,  unfolding 
the  paper  in  her  hand;  "but  there  are  other  males 
hi  the  world,  if  the  men  are  scarce;  and  so  I 
changed  my  beau,  and  perhaps  the  change  may  do 
me  good!" 


62         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

There  was  a  tiny  sob  in  her  voice,  but  only  laughter 
glistened  in  her  eyes,  while  Donna  Carima  struggled 
with  herself  to  suppress  her  emotion  and  not  give 
open  sympathy  to  the  brave  motherless  girl  whose 
heart  had  been  placed  so  unprotectedly  upon  the 
market  of  the  world,  for  the  child's  sweet  dignity 
forbade. 

Ellice  now  had  the  questionable  missive  spread 
before  her.  She  arose  impressively  and  remarked 
with  great  seriousness: 

"The  illustrious  Count,  Monsieur  Armand  Flam- 
beau, unto  me  inscribes  soft  and  languishing  lines 
from  the  Muses'  own  pen!  "Pis  thus  he  doth  begin: 

"'To  the  Flower  of  my  Life!' — Hem!  I  wonder 
how  much  money  he  thinks  I  have?"  she  asked 
reflectively,  then  continued: 

"  '  'Tis  but  the  fragrance  of  thy  thoughts 
That  scent  the  air  for  me,  Ellice ; 
'Tis  only  the  breath  of  thy  laughter  I  feel, 
As  I  sigh  at  thy  feet,  Ellice! 
Still,  sweet '  " 

"Miss  Loving,  my  Lady,"  announced  Hippolyte, 
with  courteous  disregard  for  the  interrupted  poetry, 
and  presenting  a  card  on  a  heavily  crowned  and 
monogrammed  golden  tray. 

"We  will  receive  her,"  commanded  Donna  Carima. 
"Now,  my  laughing  heart,  my  sunny  heart," 
she  added,  turning  to  Ellice,  "you  shall  enjoy  our 
guest  to  the  utmost;  for  the  beginning  of  this  must 
be  the  end.  I  hope  no  one  will  call  until  she  departs," 
she  murmured  apprehensively  to  herself. 

An  astonishing  vision  in  scarlet  swept  into  the  room, 
illumining  it  with  a  new  light;  for  Linda  Loving 


L'AMITIE  DES  FEMMES          63 

always  insisted  upon  "filling  the  stage"  at  her 
entrance. 

She  was  a  tall  blonde,  flashy,  attractive,  and  of 
uncertain  age.  Her  gown  fitted  ideally,  showing  the 
splendid  though  rather  exaggerated  curves  of  her 
figure.  In  fact,  everything  about  Miss  Loving  was 
exaggerated,  from  her  French  heels  to  her  ultra- 
fashionable  hand-bag.  Her  yellow  hair  was  crowned 
with  a  scarlet  toque,  shading  from  dark  to  brilliant 
red.  A  long  white  aigrette  trailed  luxuriously  from 
the  toque,  reaching  to  her  shoulder.  She  came 
forward  briskly  with  extended  hand. 

"  It  was  mighty  sweet  of  you  to  ask  me  to  call  upon 
you,  Donna  Carima,"  she  said,  introducing  herself 
with  superb  assurance. 

"And  we  are  charmed  to  receive  you,"  responded 
the  hostess  graciously,  not  without  a  little  start, 
however,  at  the  shrieking  costume  of  her  guest.  On 
the  other  side  the  queenly  bearing  and  suggestion 
of  power  about  Donna  Carima  for  the  moment  held 
Linda  in  curious  awe. 

But  Ellice  noticed  nothing,  and  greeted  the,  to 
her,  interesting  visitor. 

Donna  Carima  had  scarcely  resumed  her  chair,  re- 
signed to  the  usual  conventional  chat,  when  Hippolyte 
re-entered  bearing  another  card. 

"Senator  Truesdale,  my  Lady,  on  a  matter  of 
business." 

"  You  will  pardon  me  for  a  few  moments,"  requested 
Donna  Carima,  turning  toward  Miss  Loving  politely. 
There  was  the  period,  not  the  interrogation-mark,  at 
the  end  of  the  sentence,  which  impressed  the  woman 
whom  she  addressed. 


64         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Linda  bowed  acquiescence,  not  without  a  knowing 
little  smile,  however,  as  Donna  Carima  motioned  her 
attendant  to  follow  her  from  the  room. 

At  the  head  of  the  stairs  she  paused.  "You  may 
show  the  Senator  into  the  library;  then  serve  tea 
in  the  drawing-room.  Miss  Courtney  will  officiate," 
she  said. 

The  faithful  Hippolyte  bowed  low  and  disappeared 
down  the  stairs. 

Donna  Carima  stood  for  a  moment  uncertain,  a 
troubled  frown  wrinkling  her  smooth  forehead.  She 
disliked  Senator  Truesdale,  but,  before  her  mission, 
self  must  ever  be  submerged,  and  it  was  best  he 
should  not  meet  Miss  Loving  at  her  home.  She  had 
decided;  and  an  instant  later  she  hastened  to  the 
library  to  greet  the  distinguished  visitor. 

Ellice,  meanwhile,  was  being  generously  enter- 
tained by  the  lavish  talk  of  Linda  Loving,  who  was 
a  woman  of  vast  and  weird  interest  to  the  inexperi- 
enced mind  of  the  young  girl,  as  is  so  often  the  case 
with  budding  youth  and  satiated  womanhood. 

To  the  delight  of  Ellice,  Linda  related  bright  bits 
of  gossip  and  tales  of  Congressional  wit  with  the 
humor  of  fond  appreciation.  She  talked  well  too, 
for,  just  now,  she  was  making  an  effort  to  impress 
a  prominent  little  daughter  of  the  social  world,  where 
she  had  been  so  long  denied  entrance,  though  her 
cleverness  had  already  acquired  wealth  and  even 
friends,  of  a  kind,  in  the  capital  city.  Through 
Ellice  she  hoped  to  glean  also  some  valuable  facts 
about  Donna  Carima  Astrados  and  carry  them  to 
Nick  Worthington,  but  first  she  must  gain  the  girl's 
friendship. 


L'AMITIE  DES  FEMMES          65 

"You  know  that  Mrs.  Sexton  from  London?" 
Linda  was  saying. 

"London,  Canada?"  asked  Ellice. 

"No,  no,  the  real  thing,"  corrected  Linda.  "Old 
London  on  the  Thames.  I've  never  been  there; 
but  they  say  it's  on  the  Thames  and  is  a  gay  old 
town,  though  it  must  be  dull  and  gloomy  enough  out- 
doors, with  fogs  and  rain  all  the  time.  Gay  Paree 
for  mine  next  summer!  I  never  take  chances  on  a 
man  or  on  a  town  that  doesn't  at  least  look  promising. 
But  back  to  Mrs.  Sexton!  She  is  quite  a  character 
in  her  fashion,  and  has  Congressman  Browne  nailed  to 
the  floor  in  a  manner  worthy  of  myself.  So  I  must 
admire  her." 

"But  who  is  she?"  interrupted  Ellice  with  interest. 

"  Oh,  just  Mrs.  Sexton  from  London.  She  is  trying 
to  learn  my  profession.  But  this  is  the  j oke !  Yester- 
day I  was  breakfasting  at  the  Willard  Hotel  with  Con- 
gressman Duany,  when  Mrs.  Sexton  and  Congressman 
Browne  appeared  and  sat  at  the  next  table.  His 
Honorableship  had  just  ordered  eggs  d  la  Suzette, 
when  up  spoke  Mrs.  Sexton  in  her  very  English 
voice.  'No,  thank  you,  Congressman,'  she  said,  'I 
always  take  my  /icggs  poached,  because  you  can  see 
them  naked  before  you;  &and,  if  they  don't  look  as 
they  should  look,  back  they  can  go,  and  you  don't 
run  no  risks!' 

"  Mr.  Browne  smiled  upon  her.  '  An  egg  is  like  a 
woman,'  he  said, '  it  is  either  good  or  bad.'  The  waiter 
nearly  had  a  fit,  and  it  was  German  Fritz,  whom  I 
know  well.  After  taking  their  order,  he  approached 
me  very  politely  and  said, '  Miss  Loving,  will  you  have 
your  fteggs  loose  or  tight  boiled  this  mornin'?"' 
5 


66         THE  GIRL   IN  QUESTION 

Ellice  was  an  appreciative  audience  and  laughed 
gleefully  too. 

"What  a  dreadful  person  she  must  be!" 

"Oh,  no,  not  at  all.  They  say  that  all  English 
people  speak  that  way.  They  call  it  cockney. 
Every  one  who  is  born  within  sound  of  Bow-Bells 
is  cockney,  so  all  the  London  aristocracy  drop  their 
h's  and  buy  titles  just  as  soon  as  they  are  rich  enough; 
and  yet  they  scoff  at  us,  because  we  don't  have  a 
title-market  government  too.  I  don't  like  English 
people,"  declared  Linda  with  feeling. 

"But  they  are  not  like  that  at  all!"  exclaimed 
Ellice  with  some  defensive  fire.  "  I  visited  in  Devon- 
shire all  last  summer." 

Linda  sipped  her  tea  knowingly.  "You  are  an 
innocent  little  thing,"  she  said  indulgently. 

Ellice  chafed  under  the  patronage. 

"Well,  it  serves  them  right,"  she  declared  sud- 
denly, laughing  good-naturedly.  "They  are  just 
as  mistaken  in  their  ideas  of  us,  though  they  are  not 
as  bad  as  the  French.  One  girl  in  France  asked  me 
where  I  learned  to  wear  my  clothes.  I  said,  'On 
the  steamer  coming  over,'  and  she  believed  me." 

Linda  replaced  her  teacup  and  crossed  the  room 
to  a  full-length  painting  of  Donna  Carima  which 
hung  between  two  high  French  windows.  "What  a 
beautiful  picture!"  she  exclaimed  admiringly.  As 
she  drew  nearer  to  the  portrait,  however,  she  glanced 
through  the  window  and  her  vigilant  eyes  lighted 
upon  two  ladies  in  a  victoria. 

"Oh,  woe,  oh,  woe!"  she  cried.  "Mrs.  Sena- 
tor Truesdale  and  daughter  making  straight  for 
this  house.  The  Senator  may  be  trapped  at  any 


L'AMITIE  DES  FEMMES          67 

moment.  If  we  could  only  ring  down  he  cur- 
tain!" 

Here  was  food  indeed  for  her  whetted  curiosity. 

Ellice  blushed  indignantly,  as  she  replied  with 
flashing  eyes,  "Senator  Truesdale  called  here  on 
business,  Miss  Loving." 

Linda  overlooked  the  youthful  observation  and 
watched  the  ladies  intently  as  they  alighted  from 
their  carriage. 

"Under  every  tombstone  lies  a  world,"  she  mur- 
mured reflectively,  still  ignoring  Ellice's  remark. 

"No  wife  should  object  to  a  business  call,"  asserted 
the  little  girl  warmly. 

"No,  my  dear,  no  wife  should;  but  they  do.  The 
wife  game  is  bad  for  a  short  run,  but  wins  in  the 
long  race.  Remember  that.  His  wife!"  she  re- 
peated, an  odd  smile  curling  her  full  lips.  "The 
prestige  which  that  word  calls  forth  must  have  come 
to  be  an  instinct  with  man.  Even  when  his  heart  is 
cold,  that  word  startles  the  brain  of  every  husband. 
Try  it  on  Truesdale  and  you  will  see,  my  dear." 

Ellice,  for  the  first  time,  involuntarily  moved  away 
from  Linda.  Fascinating  as  the  girl  had  found  the 
lobbyist,  she  disliked  her  manner  of  beating  down 
all  the  ideals  of  life,  of  making  everything  common- 
place and  undesirable,  even  the  sacred  word  wife — 
a  word  which  spells  rapture  to  every  pure,  sweet 
maiden  throughout  all  lands. 

"Mrs.  Truesdale  is  a  charming  woman,"  protested 
Ellice  almost  angrily.  "I  am  sure  her  husband's 
heart  is  not  cold  to  her." 

Linda  knew  that  much  depended  upon  Donna 
Carima's  friendship  with  Senator  Truesdale,  and 


68         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Ellice,  no  doubt,  knew  the  answer.  Diplomacy  she 
felt  might  yet  gain  this  important  knowledge  for 
herself;  but,  as  she  gazed  upon  the  sweet  face  be- 
fore her,  resentment  replaced  her  usual  tact. 

"Yes,  Mrs.  Truesdale  is  a  true  and  good-enough 
woman;  but  that  is  her  trouble,"  answered  Linda, 
watching  Ellice  with  amused  eyes.  "  "Tis  strange 
how  much  of  her  art  a  woman  loses  when  she  loves 
in  earnest."  She  laughed  recklessly  at  the  indignant 
little  face  before  her.  "What  a  lovely  girl  you  arc! 
I  had  forgotten  your  species  of  humanity,"  she  added 
with  impulsive  truthfulness,  for  Linda  was  very 
human.  "It  must  be  beautiful  to  believe  in  every- 
thing," and  she  sighed  wistfully  indeed.  "I  hope  I 
haven't  disillusioned  you  any,  dear?"  she  asked 
suddenly,  lest  she  might  have  gone  too  far. 

"No,  no,"  answered  Ellice,  "not  a  bit." 

Linda  realized  that  she  was  losing  time. 

"Does  Donna  Carima  like  Senator  Truesdale 
personally?"  she  asked,  with  well-assumed  indiffer- 
ence. 

If  Ellice  had  answered  that  question,  Linda  after- 
ward thought,  how  differently  she  might  have 
moulded  subsequent  events!  At  this  moment,  how- 
ever, the  conversation  was  interrupted,  but  the 
formal  conversations  which  followed,  though  appar- 
ently devoid  of  meaning,  supplied  Linda  with  some 
understanding. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Two  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER 

"Mrs.  Truesdale,  Miss  Truesdale,  and  Mr.  Jamie- 
son!"  announced  Hippolyte,  approaching  Ellice,  who 
still  ingenuously  presided  over  the  destiny  of  a  home 
where  a  Senator  was  calling  in  the  library  and  the 
Senator's  wife  in  the  drawing-room. 

"My  Lady  requests  that  you  will  officiate,  Miss," 
he  added  by  way  of  explanation,  as  the  new-comers 
were  formally  ushered  into  this  room,  and  not  to  the 
abode  of  garrulous  authors. 

Linda  smiled  at  this  practical  vindication  of  her 
late  observations  upon  life. 

Ellice  rose  to  the  occasion  and,  after  gracious 
greetings,  innocently  presented  Miss  Loving. 

Mrs.  Truesdale  hesitated,  raised  her  lorgnette, 
regarded  Linda,  and,  glancing  at  the  unconscious 
Ellice,  acknowledged  the  presentation  with  cold 
courtesy. 

Dora  Truesdale,  a  thin,  ansemic-looking  girl  with 
small  dark  eyes  and  quite  unlike  either  parent, — 
"  Heaven  knows  why,"  thought  Linda, — followed  her 
mother's  example. 

Mr.  Jamieson  represented  the  Methodist  Church 
North.  He  was  very  dapper,  very  conceited,  very 
uninteresting  to  women  in  general,  but  Miss  Trues- 
dale had  taken  him  under  her  social  wing. 

69 


7o         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Let  me  present  Mr.  Jamieson,"  said  she  rather 
ostentatiously.  "  He  is  an  old  friend,  Miss  Courtney, 
and,"  turning  to  Linda,  "Miss— er?" 

"Loving,"  volunteered  Ellice. 

"Miss  Loving,"  repeated  Dora  with  emphasized 
formality. 

Ellice  looked  contemptuously  at  little  Mr.  Jamie- 
son.  She  could  overlook  Miss  Loving,  for  that  lady 
had  the  quality  at  least  of  being  interesting,  but 
Dora's  friend  hadn't  even  that. 

Mr.  Jamieson  had  emitted  a  stiff  "  Dec-light-ed, 
I'm  sure,"  to  each  presentation,  and  then  fixed 
his  pale  blue  eyes  critically  upon  Miss  Courtney's 
vivid  face,  not  forgetting  her  peekaboo  bodice, 
where  his  eyes  lingered  intently,  of  course  hi  dis- 
approval! 

"  I  have  heard  a  great  deal  of  Miss  Courtney  in  the 
papers,"  he  remarked. 

"  Yes,"answered  Mrs. Truesdale  generously,  "Ellice 
was  the  belle  of  Mrs.  Randolph's  Christmas  ball,  a 
very  pretty  compliment.  Dora  had  all  that  flattery 
the  year  she  came  out,"  she  added,  looking  proudly 
at  her  daughter. 

"Last  year,"  corrected  Dora  with  decision. 

"Yes,  I  said  last  year,  dear,"  replied  Mrs.  Trues- 
dale quickly. 

Dora's  eyes  twinkled  a  bit  spitefully.  She  turned 
to  Linda,  and  observed:  "I  suppose  you  know  Mrs. 
Randolph?"  though  she  was  sure  that  Linda  did  not. 

"Oh,  yes,"  replied  Miss  Loving,  quite  equal  to  the 
occasion,  "we  have  met  where  all  fashionables  meet 
— at  market." 

Mrs.  Truesdale  smiled  coldly,  and  Linda  felt  irri- 


TWO  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER   71 

tated  again.  This  good,  churchy  woman  had  always 
lived  her  own  moral  life  and  scorned  every  phase  of 
backsliding  from  the  line,  because  she  had  never  been 
submitted  to,  nor  come  into  contact  with,  its  rougher 
side,  nor  the  temptations  thereof.  She  was,  there- 
fore, an  unendurable  type  to  Linda,  who  now  glanced 
disdainfully  at  Dora,  who  equally  disliked  Linda  at 
sight,  because  she  had  attractions.  She  even  re- 
garded Miss  Loving  with  unconcealed  disapproval. 

"If  you  don't  know  Mrs.  Randolph,  you  know 
Nick  Worthington  pratty  well,  don't  you?"  she 
asked,  as  if  in  challenge,  but  turned  her  eyes  upon 
Ellice,  who  only  smiled  sweetly  in  response. 

"Yes,"  answered  Linda  quietly,  "I have  the  pleas- 
ure." 

"And  do  you  like  him?"  demanded  Dora  in  her 
thin,  critical  voice. 

"Just  about  as  well  as  you  like  young  General 
Hartley,"  responded  Linda,  with  smiling  insinuation. 

Ellice  blushed  for  the  rudeness  of  both  guests,  and 
her  heart  throbbed  with  gratitude  as  she  saw  Donna 
Carima  return  and,  by  her  graceful  charm,  uncon- 
sciously restore  kinder  humor. 

Mrs.  Truesdale  austerely  began  a  conversation  on 
modern  plays  with  Miss  Loving,  and  Donna  Carima 
wittily  aided  it,  though  secretly  fearing  much  which 
later  happened. 

Ellice,  meanwhile,  turned  her  eyes  teasingly  upon 
poor,  frightened  Mr.  Jamieson. 

"You  are  delighted  with  Washington,  of  course, 
Mr.  Jamieson?"  she  asked. 

"Fascinated,  positively  fascinated,"  he  declared 
precisely. 


72         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Ellice  smiled  by  way  of  encouragement,  then 
remarked  tantalizingly,  "I  understood  you  had  an 
interesting  friend  from  Kansas  visiting  you,  Dora?" 

Jamieson  glanced  at  Ellice  with  more  decided 
interest;  but  Dora  observed  reprovingly,  "Mr. 
Jamieson  is  an  old  friend,  Ellice.  He  is  studying  for 
the  ministry." 

"How  enchanting!"  cried  Ellice,  clasping  her 
hands  with  enthusiasm.  "Divinity  students  are  so 
interesting!" 

Jamieson's  smile  broadened,  but  he  said  modestly, 
"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Oh,  I  love  divinity  students,"  continued  the 
young  lady,  regarding  Mr.  Jamieson  with  great 
earnestness.  "  I  just  dote  on  them.  There's  such  an 
opportunity  for  a  girl  to  do  good  as  a  minister's  wife." 

"Ellice!"  cried  Dora  in  a  shocked  tone.  Ellice, 
however,  was  started  on  her  line  of  attack,  and 
nothing  short  of  genuine  firearms  could  stop  her. 

Jamieson  returned  her  regard  despite  himself,  and 
propounded  his  usual  response  with  equal  seriousness : 
"Do  you  think  so?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  Ellice  replied  with  conviction. 

Linda  had  learned  something  of  the  knowledge 
she  sought,  and  now  turned  toward  the  younger 
visitors  with  an  unobserved  wink  at  her  little 
patroness. 

"There  are  rumors  that  Mr.  Jamieson  is  engaged, 
Miss  Courtney,"  she  suggested. 

"Oh,  you  never  can  believe  what  you  hear," 
returned  the  young  miss,  with  a  languishing  glance 
at  Mr.  Jamieson,  who,  frightened  at  a  possible 
disposition  of  himself,  hurriedly  interposed: 


TWO  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER  73 

"Oh,  I  have  not  gone  so  far  but  that  I  could 
honorably  retract,  Miss  Courtney.  I  do  not  think 
it  pious  to  lead  a  maiden  on,  unless  one  intends  to — 
to — settle  down  immediately." 

Ellice  looked  at  him  for  an  instant,  as  though  she 
had  not  heard  aright;  but  she  answered  steadily, 
not  daring  to  catch  Linda's  eye: 

"  Quite  noble  of  you,  Mr.  Jamieson.  Girls'  hearts 
are  so  easily  broken — in  Washington." 

The  young  minister  placed  the  points  of  his  finger- 
tips together,  and  answered  with  righteous  pity: 

"Of  course — weak  creatures!" 

Ellice's  eyes  twinkled  with  fun,  but  she  controlled 
herself  and,  turning  to  Miss  Truesdale,  observed : 

"I  hear  the  Senator  is  to  represent  us  at  St. 
James's.  Dora  will  have  nothing  but  a  duke  when 
she  returns." 

"Ah,  but  I  do  not  approve  of  an  American  girl 
marrying  a  foreigner,"  interposed  Mr.  Jamieson  with 
decision. 

"If  she  can  get  an  American?"  suggested  Linda 
dryly. 

"I  quite  agree,  Mr.  Jamieson,"  exclaimed  Ellice, 
sympathetically  glancing  toward  the  little  man.  "I 
shouldn't  know  what  to  do  with  a  foreigner  after  I 
had  married  him.  They  say  the  divorce  laws  are 
quite  annoying  over  there,"  added  the  girl  plaint- 
ively, as  she  regarded  poor  Jamieson  with  a  pro- 
voking baby-stare. 

Donna  Carima  turned  from  Mrs.  Truesdale,  laugh- 
ing. 

"  But,  Ellice,  you  help  them  out  with  your  American 
laws,"  she  said/ while  the  horrified  Jamieson  only 


74         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

gazed  hopelessly  at  the  pretty,  innocent  face  before 
him. 

"I  do  not  believe  in  divorce,  Miss  Courtney,"  he 
protested. 

And,  under  the  light  atmosphere,  a  heavy  drama 
was  forming. 

Mrs.  Truesdale  noted  the  droop  of  discontent  upon 
her  daughter's  lips,  and  rose  instantly  to  make  her 
adieux. 

Amid  the  general  au  revoir,  Ellice  contrived  to 
press  Mr.  Jamieson's  hand,  quite  unconsciously  of 
course. 

"Call  again  soon.  Won't  you?"  she  lisped,  sub- 
duing her  voice.  "Dora  is  so  selfish.  She  keeps 
all  the  charming  men  to  herself." 

Like  the  Archangel,  Jamieson  fell. 

"  You  should  keep  an  eye  on  Dora,  Mrs.  Truesdale," 
observed  Donna  Carima  with  a  smile.  "You  know 
the  men  in  Washington  are  so  dangerous,"  she 
added  with  mock  horror. 

"Terrible!"  cried  Dora,  while  Jamieson  echoed 
the  word  with  unaffected  fear. 

"Oh,  men  are  not  so  bad,  if  one  knows  how  to 
manage  them,"  burst  forth  Ellice. 

"Them?"  Jamieson  gasped  in  astonishment. 

"No,  I  mean  one's  self,"  corrected  the  girl,  impish 
lights  dancing  in  her  eyes.  "  This  is  my  rule :  never 
take  but  one  kiss — at  a  time,  Dora!  Then  one  is 
pretty  safe.  Don't  you  think  so,  Mr.  Jamieson?" 
she  asked,  turning  her  laughing  eyes  upon  him. 

The  little  minister  looked  shocked,  but  interested. 
He  held  to  his  tenets,  however:  "No,  I  do  not  agree, 
Miss  Courtney." 


TWO  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER   75 

"Oh,  then  you  believe  in — two  kisses  at  a  time?" 
she  questioned  slyly.  "Oh,  Mr.  Jamieson!  You 
don't  look  it.  I  was  sure  you  would  be  more  con- 
siderate under  fire,"  she  added,  and  laughed  be- 
witchingly  upon  him. 

Mrs.  Truesdale  had  moved  to  the  door;  but  Dora 
remained  half-way  between,  guarding  her  pious  friend, 
who  had  now  become  utterly  confused.  "Come!" 
commanded  Dora;  and,  with  a  pleading  glance  at 
Ellice,  Mr.  Jamieson  hurriedly  obeyed. 

As  they  disappeared  from  view,  and  fortunately 
from  hearing  also,  Linda  Loving  laughed  heartily. 

"My  dear  Miss  Courtney,"  she  said,  "you  should 
not  mind  their  going  to  St.  James's,  but  rather  wish 
them  on  to  Paris.  What  hats!  Oh,  Venus!" 

"Yes,"  answered  Ellice  gayly,  "Dora  could  learn 
a  lot  in  Paris.  Mamma  Truesdale,  also." 

"You  are  right,  from  what  I  have  heard  of  Mrs. 
Truesdale,"  retorted  Linda.  "  In  England  one  canget 
considerable  courtesy  for  a  shilling,  in  Scotland  consid- 
erably less;  but  in  la  belle  France  one  can  get  courtesy 
for  nothing,  and  that  will  suit  Mrs.  Truesdale." 

"But,"  exclaimed  Donna  Carima,  "if  one  gets 
courtesy  for  nothing  in  France,  they  take  one's 
character  away  in  exchange!" 

"But,"  interposed  Linda  quickly,  "if  one  has  no 
character!  And  now  I  must  go  or  I  shall  shock 
Miss  Courtney.  You  have  given  me  a  very  happy 
time.  I  thank  you  both  and  hope  to  see  you  soon." 

There  were  no  remarks  about  further  visits. 

Ellice  escorted  her  astonishing  acquaintance  to 
the  hall  and  then  returned  to  Donna  Carima,  who 
regarded  her  very  seriously. 


76         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"My  little  dear,"  she  said,  "I  only  hope  that  that 
woman  won't  do  either  of  us  any  harm.  She  learned 
more  here  than  she  had  even  hoped  to  do." 

"What  do  you  mean?"  asked  Ellice,  with  wide- 
opened,  questioning  eyes. 

"  L'amitie  des  femmes,  c'est  comme  I'eau  dans  un 
panicr,"  answered  Donna  Carima. 

"Telephone  for  Miss  Courtney,"  announced  Hip- 
polyte  in  the  doorway,  and  Ellice  vanished  from  the 
room  in  answer. 

Donna  Carima  stepped  out  upon  the  balcony. 
She  watched  the  grand  old  sun  smiling  good-night  to 
the  world.  Her  lashes  were  moist,  but  her  soul, 
like  Anne  Aymington's,  pleaded  the  Eternal  Question ! 
Half-consciously,  she  saw  a  carriage  tearing  up  the 
street  and  stop  at  the  entrance.  A  man  sprang  out. 
She  caught  a  glimpse  of  gray  hair  and  a  strong  pro- 
file. She  heard  the  hurried  excitement  of  his  tone, 
but  could  only  distinguish  the  familiar  voice  of  her 
servant. 

"Yes,  Monsieur;  left  several  hours  ago;  gave 
her  coachman  orders:  'Home,'  Monsieur." 

The  man  sprang  back  into  the  carriage.  Donna 
Carima  leaned  far  over  the  balcony  and  cried,  she 
scarce  knew  why,  "She  is  going  to  Europe — the 
seven-o'clock  train!" 

"What  station?    When  sails?" 

She  caught  the  nervous  questions  from  the  carriage 
window. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  answered. 

The  man  shouted  something  to  the  coachman  in 
sharp,  quick  tones  and  was  gone. 

Donna  Carima  stepped  back  into' the  room.     The 


TWO  LADIES  AND  A  MINISTER    77 

great  clock  on  the  mantel  was  striking  seven.  Her 
heart  breathed  a  little  prayer  for  Anne  Aymington, 
while  a  flood  of  gratitude  thrilled  her  heart. 

"Thank  God,  he  was  worth  the  sacrifice,"  she 
cried.  Then,  gazing  toward  the  sulking  sun,  she 
murmured : 

"  In  the  eternal  force  for  righteousness,  the  reward 
/  of  love  must  be  love,  as  the  retribution  of  sin  is  sin!" 

The  fragrance  of  the  early  spring-time  alone 
answered  her. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS! 

It  was  afternoon.  A  month  had  passed,  and  the 
year's  most  fair  season  had  arrived,  "when  Spring 
unlocks  the  flowers  to  paint  the  laughing  soil." 

Donna  Carima  Astrados  was  still  fighting  for  her 
people's  cause,  but  a  greater  struggle  was  racking 
her  soul.  She  had  not  tried  to  crush  the  love  within 
her  heart,  but  had  avoided  every  possible  meeting 
with  Leon  Hartley.  Circumstances,  however,  had 
been  very  trying,  for  coincidence  seemed  interested 
in  placing  the  young  officer  in  difficult  and  danger- 
ously familiar  proximity  to  the  foreign  girl,  and 
Donna  Carima  began  to  fear  lest  a  box  party  or 
other  social  function  might  defeat  her  determined 
effort. 

She  was  so  likely  to  find  herself  seated  next  to 
General  Hartley,  or  inopportunely  see  him  occupy- 
ing the  chair  vis-a-vis  to  herself.  As  frequently  hap- 
pens, her  political  ambition  rode  the  uppermost  wave 
of  hope  toward  success,  while  the  tragic  struggle  of 
love  and  duty  tore  her  asunder. 

"  And  in  the  fire  of  Spring 
Your  Winter  garment  of  Repentance  fling ; 
The  bird  of  time  has  but  a  little  way 
To  flutter — and  the  bird  is  on  the  wing." 

It  was  Senator  Truesdale's  oft-spoken  quotation 
78 


BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS!    79 

that  whispered  itself  continually  in  Donna  Carima's 
ear,  until  its  meaning  had  become  horribly  clear  to  her. 

She  sat  thinking  of  these  entangled  facts,  when 
suddenly  her  heart  beat  rapidly,  for  the  knowledge 
of  a  presence  passed  over  her,  and  turning  slowly 
she  saw  Leon  Hartley. 

She  arose  and  gazed  at  him  incredulously,  until 
his  laugh  assured  her  of  his  reality.  She  glanced 
questioningly  at  the  balcony. 

"No,"  he  smiled  inreponse.  "  God  never  intended 
me  for  a  Romeo,  except  at  heart;  and  I  did  not  dis- 
cover that  until  fourteen  weeks  ago.  The  truth  is, 
I  forgot  for  the  moment  the  Father  of  my  country, 
and  told  your  butler  that  you  expected  me.  I  hope 
you  will  forgive  the  subterfuge.  I  so  wished  to  see 
you  alone,  to  talk  to  you  about  the  treaty." 

Carima  tried  vainly  to  crush  the  joy  that  surged 
over  her  at  his  presence.  With  serious  courtesy 
she  offered  him  a  chair,  which  he  accepted;  and, 
manlike,  revealed  all  his  heart,  as  he  allowed  his  eyes 
to  gaze  hungrily  upon  each  feature  of  her  lovely 
face.  Her  glance  fell  before  the  tender  passion  that 
glowed  in  his  eyes.  At  last  she  spoke: 

"Ah,  my  treaty,  yes;  it  needs  but  one  endorse- 
ment, that  of  the  Secretary  of  War.  When  I  pro- 
cure that,  my  cause  will  be  so  near  the  President's 
approval,  I  shall  engage  my  passage  for  home." 
Her  voice  was  emotionless,  as  only  the  art  of  a  woman 
can  make  it  when  concealing  her  feelings.  "And  I 
depend  upon  you,  General,  to  obtain  it  for  me,"  she 
added.  Her  voice  thrilled  with  the  power  which 
she  realized  she  held  over  him,  and  as  she  spoke  she 
smiled  at  her  own  weakness. 


8o         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"It  shall  be  yours,"  he  answered  firmly.  "Only 
give  me  time;  but  I  cannot  let  you  go  so  soon,"  he 
blurted  out. 

"You  would  hold  me  here  by  a  subterfuge?" 
cried  Donna  Carima,  but  her  eyes  held  a  tender  look. 

"  No,  no,  your  wish  is  my  will,  and  yet  I'm  afraid 
I  would  hold  you  here  by  any  means,  good  or  bad. 
I  doubt  if  I  could  recognize  which,  if  I  held  you  near 
me." 

She  softened,  womanlike,  and  smiled  at  him  through 
shining  eyes. 

"That  sounds  like  Cupid's  tongue,  not  our  great 
General's,"  she  laughed  nervously. 

There  was  an  awkward  pause,  then  Leon  Hartley 
spoke : 

"Forgive  me  for  endeavoring  to  see  you  again 
while  patriotism  is  stronger  than  love  in  your  heart." 
His  tone  expressed  great  suffering,  tinged  wth  bitter- 
ness. "My  excuse  I  hope  is  a  worthy  one.  I  have 
discovered  why  the  endorsement  of  the  War  Secre- 
tary is  withheld.  I  asked  his  wife  to  influence  him 
against  you,  before  I  knew  that  Donna  Carima 
Astrados  was  yourself.  Later  I  explained  to  Mrs. 
Randolph  the  change  in  my  opinion.  But  the  enemy 
in  that  household  is  Nicholas  Worthington,  the 
grandson  of  the  Secretary.  " 

"Nicholas  Worthington!  "  repeated  Donns,  Carima 
in  astonishment.  "I  thought  he  was  my  friend.  I 
do  not  understand  his  hostility,  but  I  thank  you 
for  your  warning." 

"  He  has  -learned  that  Senator  Truesdale  visits  you 
unknown  to  his  wife,  and  he  doubts  your  sincerity," 
Hartley  replied. 


BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS!    81 

Donna  Carima  instantly  recalled  Linda's  unfor- 
tunate visit. 

"And  do  you  doubt  my  sincerity?"  she  asked,  and 
her  voice  was  not  quite  steady. 

Hartley  laughed  scornfully. 

"I  would  sooner  doubt  the  sun's  light,"  he  said. 

Donna  Carima  swayed  slightly  toward  him.  The 
mauve  dusk  of  evening  shadowed  her  face,  but 
Hartley  felt  the  flood  of  gratitude  that  thrilled  her 
and  transmitted  strong  currents  of  joy  to  himself. 

Again  a  pause  made  silence  between  them  to  let 
the  emotions  sing  in  that  violet  hour  when  the 
spirit  of  twilight  awakened  their  fancy  and  their 
dread.  The  heavy  perfume  of  the  blossoms  which 
garnished  the  room  seemed  to  smother  them  as  it 
mingled  with  the  passion  of  their  thoughts. 

"The  lights  have  been  neglected,"  Donna  Carima 
murmured  and  laid  her  hand  upon  the  silver  bell. 

He  stopped  her  gently. 

"Please  let  us  sit  here  a  moment  longer,"  he 
requested,  his  beautiful  voice  pleading  strongly.  "  You 
have  forbidden  me  to  tell  you  why,  but  grant  me 
this." 

The  enticing  night  gathered  more  dreamily  about 
them.  Donna  Carima  hesitated,  but  finally  suc- 
cumbed to  his  entreaty.  She  felt,  however,  that, 
by  that  insignificant  act,  her  heart  would  defeat  her 
brain ;  yet  she  made  further  effort. 

Hartley  was  speaking  again,  but  her  thoughts 
drowned  his  words,  and  she  broke  in  upon  them 
with  agonized  determination. 

"General,"  she  began,'  "you  once  said  you  loved 
me.  If  you  do,  I  ask  you  to  leave  me  now  and  to 


82         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

avoid  me  always,  when  or  wherever  we  may  meet. 
I  command  you;  I  ask  you;  I  beg  of  you  to  do  this." 

For  answer,  Hartley  leaned  forward  in  his  chair 
and  scanned  her  face  eagerly,  searchingly.  He  was 
trying  to  unveil  the  truth. 

"Do  you  really  mean  what  you  say?"  he  asked,  the 
mastership  of  the  lover  asserting  itself. 

"Yes,  yes,"  she  answered,  trying  in  vain  to  breathe 
without  apparent  difficulty. 

"You  think  it  right  and  just  for  me  to  suffer  for 
you,  as  I  am  doing,"  he  said,  hoarse  with  emotion, 
"  and  for  you  to  suffer  for  me,  as  you  must  be  doing, 
or  you  would  not  ask  this  sacrifice  of  me.  You  must 
fear  yourself,  strong  as  you  are.  Ah,  Carima,  you 
say  it  is  impossible;  but  I  know  I  can  no  longer 
live  without  you.  I  would  rather  die.  Whatever 
the  mystery  may  be  that  separates  us,  I  care  not. 
I  love  you — I  love  you!" 

As  Donna  Carima  resisted  her  lover's  pleadings, 
her  mother's  happy  face  wreathed  in  its  brilliant 
smile  seemed  to  float  across  her  vision.  Her  mother 
had  been  true  to  herself,  had  sacrificed  all,  even 
another,  to  her  love;  and  perfect  happiness  had  been 
her  reward.  Next,  Anne  Amyington  passed  before 
her  eyes — a  great  woman,  who  had  lived  to  regret 
her  own  strength,  and  had  forewarned  her  of  this 
moment. 

The  girl  trembled  violently,  but  answered  nothing. 
As  through  a  mist,  she  heard  the  multitudes  of  her 
people  crying  to  her  for  rescue,  but  their  voices 
became  dimmer  and  dimmer  until  finally  she  was 
left  alone  with  love.  All  faded  from  her  conscious- 
ness, except  his  presence. 


BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS!    83 

Neither  the  woman  nor  the  man  could  longer 
reason  for  right  or  for  wrong.  The  great  chasm  of 
differences  in  rank  was  suddenly  bridged.  As  one 
they  had  mounted  too  high  to  ask  questions  even  of 
God!  They  knew  only  that  they  were  standing 
upon  the  highest  pyramid  of  Elysium;  that  they 
looked  into  one  another's  eyes  and  there  found 
answer  to  every  craving  of  heart  and  soul. 

For  such  a  moment  the  gods  reincarnate! 

Slowly  and  sacredly,  Hartley  drew  his  love  toward 
him  and  drank  in  the  beauty  of  her  face,  no  longer 
hiding  but  revealing  such  profound  emotion  that  he 
paled,  as  he  realized  how  exceedingly  dear  she  had 
become  to  him,  how  necessary  to  his  very  life! 

"I  can  no  longer  live  without  you,"  he  breathed 
again  scarce  audibly. 

She  smiled  back  at  him. 

"  I  thought  I  had  enjoyed  the  best  the  world  had 
to  offer,"  he  continued,  "yet  I  never  awoke  to  real 
knowledge  of  life  until  I  knew  you.  I  never  knew 
what  it  was  to  be  awakened  by  the  kiss  of  a  love- 
thought  upon  my  eyelids;  to  smile  a  welcome  to  the 
sunbeams,  as  they  danced  through  the  windows  at 
dawn.  Ah,  my  love,  you  will  not  cast  aside  this 
bliss!  It  comes  once  only  in  a  lifetime — just  once!" 

She  smiled  again,  and  a  crowning  glory  appeared 
to  light  his  face,  until  she  thought  of  one  of  the 
Apostles  of  old,  glorified  with  a  halo  of  light. 

All  the  love  of  the  earth  seemed  to  dance  to  this 
one  spot  to  intensify  the  sublime  moment.  She 
threw  back  her  head  and  a  soft  murmur  of  laughter 
rippled  across  her  lips;  her  deep  violet  eyes  grew 
wide  and  dark  through  their  long  lashes. 


84         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Ah,"  she  breathed,  "truly  life  is  nothing,  but 
love  is  all— all!" 

Her  eyes  reflected  the  light  in  his;  her  lids  fell  and 
he  realized  love's  conquest;  yet  his  arms  enfolded 
her  almost  timidly;  and,  as  her  face  lay  hidden  on 
his  breast,  he  bent  his  head,  until  with  a  deep,  in- 
drawn breath  his  face  sank  into  the  masses  of  luxu- 
riant, fragrant  hair. 

A  street  organ  doled  plaintive  music  without,  and 
mingled  with  a  boy's  whistling  of  "Carmen,"  which 
floated  upon  the  air;  but  the  two  lovers  heard  nothing, 
saw  and  felt  nothing,  beyond  the  awakened  wonders  of 
their  own  souls.  The  young  General's  being  throbbed 
with  exaltation.  Notwithstanding  his  love's  great  pa- 
triotic ambition,  he  would  make  her  so  happy  she  would 
forget.  He  would  live  only  to  add  joy  to  her  existence. 

Different,  indeed,  were  Carima's  thoughts. 

As  through  a  vista,  she  saw  the  future  golden  in  its 
beauty.  She  saw  her  own  triumphant  return  to  greet 
her  people!  She  saw  this  man  of  her  choice  by  her 
side!  She  was  one  of  the  women  to  whom  it  was 
more  necessary  to  give  than  to  receive;  and,  grad- 
ually, she  saw  herself  take  the  laurels  from  her  own 
brow,  leaf  by  leaf,  and  bind  her  lover's  temples! 
She  would  be  the  first  to  bow  before  him  crying: 

"Hail,  thou,  0  Ruler!    Long  live  our  King!" 

She  raised  her  lowered  eyes  and  looked  up  at  her 
lover  with  her  wondrous  smile,  until  two  tears  slowly 
dimmed  the  shining  depths. 

She  longed  to  tell  Leon  Hartley  all  there  was  to 
tell,  but,  realizing  the  impossibility  of  his  understand- 
ing, she  simply  said: 

"Cleopatra,  Antony,  and  others    lived    for    love 


BEATING  AGAINST  THE  BARS!    85 

only — mayhap  we  too  may!  I  go  now  to  consult 
with  my  most  wise  friend." 

"Who  can  that  be?" 

"A  reformed  Voudoo  priest  of  my  people," 
she  answered. 

Hartley  drew  back  in  astonishment. 

"He  loves  you?"  he  demanded,  with  a  lover's 
ever-present  fear. 

"He  loves  me,"  Donna  Carima  answered,  "as  I 
love  my  God.  May  the  Divine  One  bless  you  always, 
and  permit  us  our  love!  " 

She  blushed  in  bashful  radiance  at  the  frankness 
of  her  avowal. 

"Amen!"  prayed  Leon  Hartley  with  all  his  soul. 

He  raised  her  beautiful  face  to  his,  and  gazed  into 
her  eyes,  as  she  still  lay  against  his  heart.  Her 
answering  look  revealed  such  love  as  he  had  never 
seen,  and  the  memory  of  those  eyes  followed  him  for 
years  and  many  years.  Yea,  until  the  grave  folded 
its  dark  doors  over  him,  and  he  never  doubted  that 
it  would  not  end  there. 

He  knelt  and  pressed  his  lips  to  her  fingers,  but 
she  raised  him  to  his  feet,  and  lifting  her  head  gave 
him  her  lips. 

Finally  he  tore  himself  away. 

She  heard  the  echo  of  his  departing  footsteps,  then 
all  was  silent.  She  sat  like  a  statuette  gazing 
into  the  crystal  depths  of  a  tear  which  her  lover  had 
left  upon  her  hand. 

Surely  God  had  sent  this  man  to  help  her  in  her 
great  work,  and  their  lives  would  be  as  a  brilliant 
sunrise,  and  their  kingdom — Eden! 

But  the  black  night  gathered  around  her. 


CHAPTER  IX 

A   DIVINE   CRYSTAL 

Leon  Hartley  was  so  engrossed  with  his  turbulent 
thoughts,  as  he  left  the  mansion,  that  he  was  obli vious 
to  the  fact  that  his  steps  were  closely  followed.  He 
walked  down  the  shelled  path  toward  the  great  gate 
and  placed  his  hand  mechanically  upon  the  latch, 
when  a  peculiar  sound  attracted  his  attention.  He 
turned  quickly  and  under  the  huge  lamp  saw  the  face 
of  a  tall  black  man.  In  response  to  his  look  of  in- 
quiry, a  rush  of  a  words  issued  from  the  negro's  lips. 
Hartley  was  able  to  understand  only  the  repeated 
name  of  Astrados,  and  with  each  repetition  the  black 
man  bowed  himself  to  the  earth. 

The  officer  touched  him  roughly  upon  the  shoulder 
in  his  eagerness  to  comprehend,  and  demanded  that 
he  speak  more  distinctly.  The  man's  eyes  glared, 
then  he  spoke  in  an  odd  singing  tone  and  in  Spanish. 

"With  us,  Monseigneur,  it  is  death  to  disobey." 

"  You  mean  that  Donna  Carima  wishes  me  to  come 
to  her?" 

Without  further  answer,  the  negro  turned  and 
Hartley  followed. 

They  passed  the  main  entrance  and,  making  a 
semi-tour  of  the  western  wing  of  the  house,  entered 
through  a  low  arched  doorway,  covered  so  densely 

86 


A  DIVINE  CRYSTAL  87 

with  ivy  that  one  unacquainted  with  it  could  with 
difficulty  discover  its  existence. 

He  found  himself  in  a  dim  hall,  lighted  only  by 
stray  moonbeams,  falling  through  a  high  barred 
casement.  He  saw  in  the  pale  light  that  he  was 
surrounded  by  about  thirty  men. 

For  some  moments  the  young  officer  was  left 
standing  hi  their  midst,  until,  evidently  at  a  hidden 
signal,  the  line  separated  and  a  smaller,  more  placid- 
looking  man,  probably  French,  and  garbed  as  a 
priest,  passed  between  their  bowed  forms  and  greeted 
General  Hartley  by  name. 

He  announced  that,  before  being  granted  audience, 
the  distinguished  visitor  must  permit  himself  to  be 
blindfolded. 

Hartley  drew  back  and  demanded  why  he  should 
be  subjected  to  this  indignity. 

The  priest  replied  that  it  was  done  in  the  name  of 
Her  Majesty,  Queen  Carima. 

For  an  instant  Leon  Hartley  stood  motionless, 
feeling  that  he  was  being  tricked  into  a  desperate 
position;  but  his  desire  to  know  the  secret  of  the 
house,  accompanied  by  the  sublime  hope  of  proving 
his  love  to  Carima,  overcame  his  scruples. 

"Very  well,"  he  said  sharply,  "I  am  ready." 

At  a  motion  from  the  priest,  two  men  disappeared, 
but  immediately  returned,  bearing  a  species  of  sedan 
chair,  blazing  hi  light  amid  the  darkness.  General 
Hartley  wondered  if  the  effect  were  produced  by 
means  of  sulphur.  As  he  frowned  at  the  uncanny 
spectacle,  he  was  momentarily  startled;  for  a  scarlet 
handkerchief  was  being  tied  across  his  eyes.  He 
was  a  soldier,  however,  and,  also,  he  had  a  reason  for 


88         THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

submission.  Most  graciously  he  was  requested  to 
enter  the  chair.  Hands  invisible  to  him  guided 
him  until  he  was  seated. 

Suddenly  he  felt  that  he  was  being  lifted  and 
carried,  he  knew  not  where.  Was  he  being  borne  by 
men,  he  questioned  mentally?  He  could  hear 
nothing.  For  some  time  this  continued.  He  seemed 
to  mount  steps  and  descend  stairs;  several  doors 
opened  and  shut.  He  was  being  moved  through  a 
mysterious  passageway,  and  felt  lights  blaze  upon 
him.  The  chair  stopped.  A  voice  in  the  Spanish 
tongue  commanded: 

"Unveil  thine  eyes,  my  son!" 

Hartley  tore  away  the  bandage  and  glared  about 
him.  He  was  seated  in  a  black  chair  in  the  midst 
of  a  most  extraordinary  room,  vast,  pompous,  and 
glittering.  A  golden  throne  stood  back  of  the  priest 
who  had  spoken,  and  who  evidently  had  the  blood 
of  Spanish  hidalgoes  in  his  veins.  He  slyly  studied 
the  officer,  while  Hartley  with  equal  interest  glanced 
curiously  along  the  walls,  marvellously  decorated 
in  extravagant  art,  weird  beyond  description  and 
strangely  lavish  in  color.  Dazzling  lights  illumined 
the  mystic  grace  of  this  unsuspected  temple.  The 
old  priest  stood  before  him  in  picturesque  contrast 
to  modern  life. 

The  soldier's  fascinated  eyes  took  in  every  detail. 
He  stood  enthralled  with  the  scene,  the  weird  beauty 
of  which  seemed  the  more  marvellous,  as  strange  but 
superb  music  thrilled  over  all.  He  gazed  with 
smiling  lips,  as  though  upon  an  enchanting  play,  not 
a  reality. 

At  an  indication  he  stepped  forward,  and  saluted 


A  DIVINE  CRYSTAL  89 

the  priest,  who  offered  him  a  royal  chair  of  odd 
beauty  vis-ct-vis  to  himself.  On  the  table  before 
them  stood  goblets  formed  of  glittering  shells  and 
filled  with  wine,  the  bouquet  of  which  proved  over- 
sweet  and  rich  to  Hartley.  He  declined  to  touch 
the  vintage,  until  the  priest  frowned  at  his  reluctance 
and,  raising  his  glass,  said  solemnly: 

"We  drink  to  Her  Majesty,  Queen  Carima!" 

The  priest,  and  the  officer,  too,  each  drained  his 
goblet  to  the  woman  both  loved. 

Then  the  priest  spoke,  slowly  and  with  great 
emphasis : 

"You  are  General  Leon  Hartley  of  the  United 
States  service?  You  are  tortured  with  the  fever  of 
love  for  the  beautiful  and  royal  lady  from  our  land? 
Yes?" 

Hartley  made  no  reply,  but  his  face  showed 
plainly  his  emotion. 

The  priest  continued: 

"You  love  in  truth;  you  love  akin  to  spirit! 
Therefore  are  you  here  to  prove  your  love.  Yes?" 

Hartley  interrupted,  but  the  priest  silenced  him. 

"How?  Yes?  You  will  see.  Her  Majesty  has 
bound  me  to  meet  truth  with  truth,  when  judging 
in  her  name.  Therefore,  turn  hither  and  you  will 
be  shown  the  great  event  which  made  Donna  Carima 
Jacinta  Desda  Ysabel  Astrados  a  ruler." 

He  motioned  Hartley  to  follow  and  led  the  way 
to  an  inner  room,  utterly  bare  save  for  a  huge  mech- 
anism, theatre-like  in  its  proportions. 

The  priest  indicated  a  crystal  dial.  "  Upon  that 
dial,"  he  said,  "you  will  look  upon  events  as  they 
have  occurred." 


9o        THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Is  it  a  mirage?"  questioned  Hartley,  as  he 
viewed  it  in  the  dim  light  of  its  secret  abode.  It 
was  unlike  anything  he  had  ever  seen.  Later,  he 
wondered  if  the  events  which  then  passed  before 
his  eyes  had  been  enacted  in  some  part  of  the  man- 
sion and  thus  reflected  before  him,  or  if  the  machine, 
indeed,  contained  past  events  stored  up  within  itself; 
but  while  he  gazed  upon  it,  it  all  appeared  so  real  that 
he  could  not  think  or  reason  wisely. 

"This  divine  machine  was  created  for  our  Queen 
by  an  Egyptian  magician  of  great  learning,  that  it 
might  be  the  agent  through  which  the  past  may  ever 
be  recalled  to  the  present,"  observed  the  priest.  "It 
is  the  Queen's  gift  to  us,  in  order  that,  inspired  by 
its  story,  we  may  ever  bow  in  reverence  to  the  good 
over  the  false,  show  doubters,  before  their  very  eyes, 
sad  truths,  and  bring  by  their  aid  light  out  of  dark- 
ness." 

Hartley  bowed  in  reverence,  for  he  realized  the 
sincerity  of  the  speaker. 

"Proceed,"  he  said  softly. 

"  On  this  dial  the  past  is  brought  to  life,"  the  priest 
began  again. 

He  turned  a  wheel  for  what  seemed  to  Hartley  an 
interminable  period;  then,  raising  his  hand,  spoke 
impressively : 

"We  have  turned  back  the  hands  of  time  twenty 
years  five  months  four  days  thirteen  minutes  and 
six  seconds." 

He  touched  a  lever,  and  light  blazed  upon  the  dial. 

Again  the  priest  spoke : 

"In  the  seeing  thou  wilt  realize  the  impossibility 
of  thy  love!" 


A  DIVINE  CRYSTAL  91 

Once  more  the  young  officer  implored  an  explana- 
tion, but  was  silenced. 

A  beautiful  island  glowed  under  Leon  Hartley's 
gaze,  blue  waters  and  bluer  sky,  dew-kissed  flowers 
and  velvet  greens,  every  leaf  of  which  seemed  to 
breathe  forth  poetic  legends.  Sounds,  too,  accom- 
panied the  passing  scenes.  He  heard  the  ripple  of 
the  waves  upon  the  beach,  the  murmur  of  winds  in 
the  high  tree-tops,  the  chattering  of  monkeys,  the 
hum  of  insects  and,  above  all,  the  warm,  spicy  breath 
which  conveyed  to  him  the  tropical  atmosphere  into 
which  he  seemed  to  have  been  transported! 

In  the  midst  of  a  dense  forest  rose  a  temple  which 
held  his  attention,  for  slowly  the  walls  became  trans- 
parent and,  within,  he  saw  the  wonders  of  the  living 
and  the  dead! 

General  Hartley  was  among  the  Voudoo  and — 
in  Washington! 


CHAPTER  X 

CHILDREN    OF    MARA — THE   GOD  OF  THE  TRIPLE 

THIRST,  THE  THIRST   FOR    EXISTENCE, 

PLEASURE,  AND  POWER 

A  rich,  low  voice  intoned  in  the  Spanish  tongue 
the  Chronicle  of  Queen  Carima,  as  the  pictures  came 
and  went  before  General  Hartley's  eyes. 

"  Fear  held  sway  in  the  Temple  of  Danh-Gbi. 

"The  priests,  koscio  and  other  attendants,  were 
searching  frantically  for  the  serpent, — Danh-Gbi, — 
the  so-called  god  and  ruler  of  the  Voudoo,  which 
had  disappeared. 

"The  powerful  Priest  Irmeo  set  forth  in  search, 
peering  over  the  rocky  and  sandy  soil,  with  his  nose 
bowed  to  the  ground,  like  a  running  hound." 

Though  now  whitened  by  age,  Hartley  recognized 
this  priest  as  the  one  who  stood  beside  him. 

"Much  distance  he  covered,  following  the  faint 
and  scarcely  visible  traces  left  by  the  lithe  body  of 
the  serpent,  sometimes  through  a  hedge  formed  by 
the  twining  wild  roses,  the  thick  undergrowth,  and 
the  blossom-covered  vines;  but,  more  often,  the 
trail  kept  to  an  open  pathway  leading  to  the  river's 
bank,  where  the  pursuer  with  supplication  upon  his 
lips  raised  his  hands  in  utter  helplessness : 

"'Surely  this  will  prove  the  barrier!'  he  cried, 
but  into  his  fevered  brain  a  voice  mocked,  'No,'  in 

92 


CHILDREN   OF  MARA  93 

answer.  'Why  should  water  prove  a  barrier  to  the 
sacred  python,  who,  hundreds  of  years  ago,  spread 
great  wings,  and,  appearing  at  the  head  of  armed 
legions,  led  them  to  conquest  over  thousands  of  an 
apparently  overwhelming  enemy?  To  such  an  one 
all  is  possible!' 

"Without  further  hesitation,  the  priest  plunged 
into  the  cold  waters  and  arrived  dripping  on  the 
opposite  bank,  where  he  showed  intense  relief  as 
he  again  discovered  unmistakable  signs  of  the 
passing  of  the  snake. 

"  The  trail  of  the  serpent  led  toward  a  magnificent 
residence  seen  in  the  distance." 

As  the  priest  followed  the  trail  across  the  planta- 
tion, Hartley  observed  the  marvellous  richness  and 
culture  of  the  soil. 

"The  plantation  of  coffee  and  indigo  extended 
over  many  miles,  and  the  Riviere  Bonne  cooled  and 
cleansed  the  great  estate.  Its  servants  numbered 
thousands. 

"  As  the  priest  Irmeo  hurried  on,  his  fears  burst 
forth  in  violent  cries: 

"  '  0  God  Danh-Gbi,— All- Wise  One,— why  enter 
these  dangerous  grounds?  The  Prince  Pedro  As- 
trados  is  our  enemy,  and  his  Lady  Gloria  an  ignorant 
foreigner!' 

"Thus  he  muttered  in  abject  terror,  lest  one  of 
the  white  heathen  might  lay  hands  upon,  or  injure, 
or — oh,  awful  thought! — kill  the  god!  At  this  terri- 
fying conjecture,  he  screamed  aloud  the  death 
penalty!" 

The  snake  here  seemed  to  have  chosen  the  most 
obstructed  path,  for,  in  following  him,  Hartley  noticed 


94         THE  GIRL   IN   QUESTION 

that  the  priest  crushed  through  fields  of  bamboo,  be- 
tween rows  of  stately  palms  and  lofty  mahogany 
trees.  The  Maypole  aloe  shook  its  crown  of  yellow 
blossoms  far  above  his  head,  the  jessamine  danced 
before  his  face,  and  the  white  datura,  the  pink 
flower-fence,  the  crimson  cordia,  and  flaming  red  cro- 
tons  closed  around  his  knees  or  spread  themselves 
between  his  feet,  as  he  stumbled  along,  tearing  his  hands 
with  the  cacti  that  made  the  way  nearly  impassable. 

"On  the  priest  stumbled,  until  he  tore  through 
a  hedge  of  coral-red  pomegranates  guarding  the 
western  wing  of  the  house,  and  filled  the  air  so 
densely  with  the  crimson  petals  by  his  onward  rush 
that  for  an  instant  he  was  blinded.  He  pushed 
boldly  forward,  however,  and  uttered  a  cry  of  exul- 
tant joy;  for  through  an  arch,  formed  of  hanging 
flowers,  he  perceived,  not  twenty  feet  distant — the 
snake-god ! 

"  Its  long  sleek  body,  still  and  content,  lay  coiled 
closely  around  a  cradle  in  which  rested  a  sleeping 

infant.'* 

Hartley  observed  that  the  body  of  the  Snake  was 
of  a  dingy,  milky  whiteness,  and  that  in  its  present 
ominous  position  it  formed  four  great  coils. 

"  The  Priest  Irmeo  prostrated  himself  upon  the 
earth  before  the  God,  and  threw  dust  over  his  head 
and  shoulders  with  both  hands,  crying : 

"'You  are  my  father!  You  are  my  mother! 
My  head  belongs  to  you!  Be  propitious  to  me!' 

"  The  snake  made  no  movement,  however,  and  the 
Priest  Irmeo,  after  many  supplications,  again  cried : 

" '  0  God  Danh-Gbi,  Most  High  One,  is  it  your 
will  I  should  bear  you  away?' 


CHILDREN  OF  MARA  95 

"  The  snake  moved  not. 

"'Ah,'  exclaimed  the  priest,  'it  is  the  child  that 
you  desire!' 

"  The  snake  slowly  unwound  itself  in  acquiescence. 

"The  priest  raised  the  monster  in  his  arms  and 
threw  him  over  his  shoulder,  in  the  manner  the 
ancient  guards  were  taught  to  carry  a  sacred  animal. 
He  snatched  up  the  sleeping  infant  also,  and  hastily 
retraced  his  steps  toward  the  temple. 

"  The  screen  of  the  tropical  night  fell  quickly  upon 
him,  and  he  arrived  at  his  destination  in  triumph. 

"Amid  loud  rejoicings,  Danh-Gbi  was  reinstated 
in  his  royal  box.  Four  vestal  virgins  entered  almost 
immediately,  and,  prostrating  themselves,  fed  to 
the  august  snake  pure-white  mice,  which  the 
Divinity  crushed  in  his  coils,  prepared  with  the  mien 
of  a  connoisseur,  and  swallowed  with  delight.  Nor 
was  he  satisfied.  He  raised  his  sleek  head  and 
glittering  eyes  toward  the  koscio  in  command  for 
more,  until  a  full  dozen  had  been  devoured;  then 
he  coiled  languidly  upon  himself  and  closed  his  eyes 
in  contentment. 

"Wild  thanksgiving  could  be  heard  throughout 
the  temple.  Many  sang  while  others  shouted.  The 
God  had  remembered  that  it  was  the  night  set  for 
the  great  festival,  and,  therefore,  he  had  returned, 
bringing  with  him  his  chosen  sacrifice!" 

Hartley  held  his  breath. 

"Above  the  temple  the  moon  rose  like  a  soft, 
golden  lantern,  and  the  radiant  beams  only  seemed 
witnesses.  They  illumined  with  a  weird,  flickering 
light  the  entrance  through  which  passed  masses  of 
men  and  women,  who  gave  the  strange  signal,  and 


96         THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

were  admitted.  Most  of  them  appeared  to  be 
negroes,  some  French,  some  Spanish. 

"Within,  upon  a  throne  draped  with  flaming 
crimson  rags,  sat  the  King  and  Queen — the  Papaloi 
and  Mamaloi — adorned  with  glittering  finery. 

"  The  King's  black  head  was  bound  with  a  diadem 
formed  of  scarlet  cloth. 

"Soon  a  low  monotonous  chant  arose  softly  from 
the  crowd,  growing  louder  and  louder  as  it  continued." 

Hartley  shuddered  with  premonition  as  he  saw 
many  glance  toward  a  scarlet  curtain  which  par- 
titioned a  portion  of  the  room.  As  their  eyes  lin- 
gered upon  this  mysterious  inclosure,  they  appeared 
to  him  to  glitter  with  an  insane  appetite. 

"At  a  sign  from  the  priest  the  singing  ceased, 
and  silence  reigned  in  the  assembly.  Then  all 
bowed  in  prayer.  After  the  invocation  the  crowd 
separated,  forming  a  pathway,  and  the  priest  an- 
nounced that  those  who  desired  to  make  a  request 
should  approach  the  God. 

"Many  obeyed  and  threw  themselves  prone  before 
the  Mighty  One.  Every  known  passion  had  its  vent. 
Crime  itself  was  not  ignored  in  the  prayers  for 
success." 

Still  Hartley  waited  without  uttering  a  sound, 
fearing  to  ask  himself  even  what  had  become  of  the 
stolen  babe? 

"  Suddenly  the  King  raised  the  holy  box,  con- 
taining the  serpent-god,  placed  it  upon  the  ground, 
and  commanded  the  priestess  to  stand  upon  it. 
The  moment  the  sacred  ark  was  beneath  her  feet,  she 
appeared  rilled  with  the  spirit  of  the  multitude. 

"She  trembled  from  head  to  foot;  her  entire  body 


CHILDREN   OF  MARA  97 

became  convulsed,  and  every  horrible  movement 
and  sound  which  delirium  could  conjure  to  make  the 
scene  the  more  impressive  she  enacted,  while  the 
audience  gradually  caught  her  frenzy. 

"  The  crowd  grew  more  abandoned,  and  soon  the 
cause  appeared  in  the  form  of  the  sacrifices!  All 
these  were  white — symbolic  of  purity — and  began 
with  two  white  cocks.  Their  throats  were  quickly 
cut  upon  the  altar  and  held  over  vases  containing 
warm,  white  rum.  One  vase  was  filled  to  the  brim 
and  passed  among  the  priests  who  received  it  with 
feverish  eagerness,  while  they  watched  the  two 
burly  negro  guards  bring  forward  a  snow-white  goat, 
washed  and  combed  and  decorated  with  blue  rib- 
bons. Its  throat,  too,  was  cut,  and  the  gaping  neck 
held  over  the  larger  vase. 

"The  waiting  people  murmured  impatiently,  and 
at  intervals  low  hisses  came  from  them. 

"The  great  vase  was  then  carried  among  the 
devoted  followers  of  the  God. 

"The  crowd  drank  thirstily  of  the  warm  intoxi- 
cant until  a  frenzy  began,  which  ended  in  the  in- 
describable Voudoo  Dance,  accompanied  by  its 
ancient  chant: 

'  Eht  Eh!    Bomba!  hen!  hen! 
Canga  bafio  te 
Congo  moune  de  le 
Canga  do  ki  la 
Canga  tt.' 

"  To  marvellous  time  and  music,  the  music  of  small 
drums,  the  weird  movements  of  a  dance  began,  the 
participants  gradually  becoming  more  delirious  in 
their  mad  fervor. 


98        THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Tumult  reigned  and  restraint  was  gone! 

"The  women  especially  forgot  all  self-control. 
Some  even  climbed  up  the  open  sides  of  the  temple, 
wriggling  their  bodies,  hissing  and  endeavoring  in 
inconceivable  ways  to  imitate  the  movements  of  the 
snake! 

"  One  knelt  upon  a  rafter,  waving  her  black  hands 
frantically  and  singing  in  a  wild,  sweet  voice  from  a 
smeared  black  throat.  Suddenly  she  tore  open  the 
front  of  her  dress,  and  laid  bare  the  fair  breast  of  a 
young  white  woman!  But  none  noticed  her  amid 
the  ghastly  festival. 

"The  dance  continued  until  silence  was  again 
commanded  by  a  voice  which  shouted: 

"'Mamaloi,  let  us  have  the  goat  without  horns! 
Let  us  give  unto  the  God  his  chosen  sacrifice ! ' 

"At  a  signal  from  the  Queen  the  scarlet  partition 
opened,  and  the  guards  appeared  leading  a  beautiful 
white  boy  of  some  seven  years  of  age,  robed  in  white." 

The  child  was  trembling  with  fear. 

"The  negroes  thrust  him  forward  to  be  blessed  by 
the  King,  who,  holding  his  great  black  hands  over 
the  boy's  fair  head,  blessed  him  in  the  name  of  the 
sacred  serpent,  and,  in  pompous  language,  requested 
of  him  what  he  most  desired  in  all  the  world. 

"  With  manly  dignity  the  little  fellow  controlled  his 
tears  and,  glancing  into  the  faces  of  his  conductors, 
replied — and  his  reply  had  most  evidently  been 
taught  him: 

"  "The  object  above  all  other  objects  in  the  world 
I  most  desire  is  the  possession  of  an  infant  virgin ! ' 

"Hardly  had  he  uttered  the  words  when  the  red 
partition  again  separated  and  a  large  negress  came 


CHILDREN   OF   MARA  99 

forward,  hearing  the  stolen  infant,  Donna  Carima 
Jacinta  Desda  Ysabel  Astrados. 

"  The  babe,  robed  in  purest  white,  was  now  open- 
eyed,  a  bright  flush  upon  her  cheeks,  cooing  excitedly 
in  sweet  baby  fashion. 

"Again  the  boy  was  asked  the  same  question,  and 
again  the  little  fellow  made  the  same  reply. 

"  But  this  time  his  voice  shook  unevenly,  and  his 
eyes  were  fixed  in  horror  upon  the  bloody  knives 
which  lay  beside  the  dead  body  of  the  goat  upon  the 
altar. 

"The  guards  strode  forward,  wiped  the  blades,  and, 
returning,  tossed  each  of  the  children  into  the  air; 
simultaneously  they  raised  the  knives  with  a  wild 
flourish,  aimed  directly  at  the  white  throats  of  the 
young  victims. 

"The  great  sigh  of  expectation,  however,  which 
arose  from  the  onlookers  was  hushed;  for  suddenly 
the  knives  were  arrested.  Above  the  men  holding 
the  children  appeared  the  ophidian  monster.  Un- 
noticed by  the  absorbed  crowd,  the  snake  had 
pushed  open  the  cover  of  its  box  and  was  standing, 
almost  on  the  end  of  its  tail,  reaching  high  over  the 
men,  its  eyes  glittering  with  apparent  anger. 

"  The  audience  fell  upon  their  faces,  crying : 

"'O  God,  forgive  us!' 

"  Horrible  fear  overcame  the  guards,  as  the  Python 
regarded  them  fixedly;  strength  left  their  muscles, 
and  the  two  children  were  slowly  dropped  upon  the 
floor.  A  moment  later  the  bodies  of  the  negroes 
fell  senseless. 

"  The  sudden  silence  evidently  pacified  the  snake- 
god,  for  it  withdrew  in  coils. 


ioo       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"The  King  was  the  first  to  recover  his  self-pos- 
session. Cautiously  he  raised  his  head,  and  in  so 
doing  his  diadem  fell  upon  the  body  of  the  babe.  It 
was  symbolic! 

"  The  priest  whispered :  '  Here  behold  the  longed- 
for  opportunity  of  obtaining  a  hold  on  two  of  the 
noble  families  of  our  Island! ' 

"Then  to  the  God  he  cried:  'Great  Holy  One! 
for  the  second  time  to-day  thou  hast  deigned  to 
indicate  thy  wishes.  These  children  shall  be  an- 
ointed in  thy  service,  and  live  to  extend  thy  power 
by  bringing  unto  thee  the  worship  of  the  whites! ' 

"He  raised  the  babe  tenderly  aloft,  and  held  the 
crown  upon  her  tiny  head  so  that  all  present  saw 
the  chosen  of  the  God! 

"Carima  Regina,  future  queen  of  theVoudoo!" 

"Can  such  things  be  in  Christendom?"  breathed 
General  Hartley. 


CHAPTER  XI 

THE  LEGEND 

Blackness  had  descended  upon  the  dial. 

Hartley  waited. 

Slowly  day  broke  across  a  glowing  landscape. 
The  darkness  of  the  agonized  night  had  changed  into 
the  ash-rose  light  of  dawn.  Out  of  the  mists  arose  a 
grand  estate,  and  Hartley  recognized  the  palace  of 
the  Prince  Pedro  Astrados. 

As  the  eye  rested  on  the  passing  scene,  the  ear 
again  heard  the  voice  intoning  the  chronicle: 

"  A  beautiful  lady,  her  face  white  and  tear-stained, 
crept  out  upon  the  terrace  and  stared  despairingly 
over  the  fairy  land. 

"  'Oh,  my  husband!'  she  cried,  'why  do  you  not 
return  from  your  mad  search  for  our  lost  babe?' 

"As  she  looked  at  the  morning  sun  bursting 
through  the  gates  of  the  sky,  she  sank  upon  her 
knees  in  the  bright  rays  streaming  halo-like  upon 
her,  and,  clasping  her  hands,  raised  her  face  to 
Heaven. 

"She  prayed  aloud  with  all  her  strength  of  might 
and  force  of  soul.  In  the  midst  of  her  eager  prayer 
a  sound  suddenly  arrested  her  attention.  She 
turned  her  head,  and  in  the  cradle  from  which  her 
child  had  disappeared  lay  a  beautiful  babe — a  babe 
just  like  her  little  one.  She  sprang  to  the  cradle's  side. 

"The  baby  was  indeed  her  own! 


102       THE  GIRL   IN   QUESTION 

"The  mother  caught  the  child  to  her  breast,  rain- 
ing a  thousand  kisses  upon  the  tiny  creature.  She 
believed  it  to  be  an  answer  to  her  prayer. 

"The  babe  whined  faintly,  and  the  mother,  in- 
stinctively knowing  the  cause,  hastened  to  pacify 
the  little  one's  hunger.  As  she  did  so,  nature  gave 
forth  unconscious  recognition  of  her  sublime  happi- 
ness; and  upon  the  morning  air  rang  a  song,  rippling 
joyously  from  the  mother's  overflowing  heart.  It 
was  interrupted  only  by  kisses  and  soft,  endearing 
terms,  addressed  to  the  infant  in  lisping,  baby 
language.  Then,  as  she  crowned  each  tiny  finger 
with  a  kiss,  the  little  hands  spread  open,  and  she  saw 
the  palms  were  strangely  smeared  with  black  oil; 
the  chest  also  was  blackened ;  and,  as  her  lips  pressed 
the  rose-tinted  feet,  she  discovered  there  black 
marks  as  well.  But  the  little  one  was  unhurt,  and 
she  ceased  to  question,  and  only  joyed  in  her. 

"A  serving  woman  entered  and,  falling  upon  her 
face,  spoke  her  message: 

"'Your  Highness,  My  Lady  Gloria,  the  Prince 
Philippe  d'Orellno  y  Tavarries  sends  happy  greetings! 
The  young  Prince  Lyulph  Rodriguez  d'Orellno  y 
Tavarries  has  been  returned  to  his  home,  and  the 
gracious  family  rejoice!  The  young  Prince  throws 
himself  at  the  feet  of  Donna  Carima  Jacinta. 

"Again  the  Lady  Gloria's  rejoicing  broke  forth 
in  happy  singing  and  cooing  and  laughter,  which 
floated  out  over  the  fields  and  was  carried  from 
flower  to  flower,  until  it  reached  the  open  road, 
where  three  horsemen  galloped  moodily  along." 

Hartley  noticed  that  the  foremost  spurred  his 
horse  forward  at  every  length,  in  restless  eagerness. 


THE  LEGEND  103 

"'Haste  thee!'  pleaded  the  Prince  Pedro  As- 
trad  os,  tightening  rein;  'my  sweet  lady  suffers. 
Haste  thee,  in  so  great  a  cause,  haste  thee!' ' 

Hartley  recognized  the  face  in  the  diamond  locket 
as  the  father  of  Donna  Carima. 

"One  of  the  following  horsemen,  Don  Luiz  En- 
rique Astrados,  addressed  his  companion  as  Father 
Angelo,  while  they  endeavored  to  keep  pace  with 
the  heart-racked  Prince. 

"  '  And  if  the  Voudoo  should  have  stolen  and 
murdered  our  beautiful  babe,  is  there  no  redress, 
Father?'  demanded  the  younger  man  angrily  in  the 
English  tongue." 

The  Catholic  priest  was  a  fair-complexioned  man  of 
splendid  physique,  and  Hartley  thought  he  looked  like 
an  Englishman. 

" '  No,  we  are  quite  unable  to  prevent  these  out- 
rages,' replied  the  holy  man,  'as  we  can  neither 
bribe  nor  force  a  witness  against  them.  It  is  a 
terrible  condition.  I  have  prayed  for  many  years 
that  I  might  find  some  power  to  control  these  people. 
They  have  great  possibilities,  if  we  could  but  direct 
and  teach  them  the  horror  of  their  desire  for  man- 
food. 

"'Superstition  is  the  ruin  of  this  island.  Ev- 
ery movement  of  their  snake-god  signifies  a  com- 
mand to  these  poor  ignorant  ones,  and  they  will 
lie,  rob,  or  murder  to  obey  it.  But  hopeless  as  it 
seems,  I  have  always  believed  our  God  will  send  a 
redeemer  to  these  people,  as  He  has  to  other  races. 
There  runs  an  old  legend  which  says  that  rebellion 
will  arise  and  peace  be  restored  only  by  a  child  of 
love,  not  of  wedlock;  and  that  during  the  reign  of 


io4       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

this  child  prosperity  will  return,  and  happiness  hold 
sway  throughout  the  land.' 

"  So  absorbed  were  the  men  in  their  converse  that 
they  had  not  observed  how  nearly  they  had  ap- 
proached the  house  until  Don  Luiz  gave  a  sudden 
exclamation  of  joyous  surprise. 

"Before  them  knelt  the  Prince,  his  arms  closely 
enfolding  his  wife  and  babe. 

"A  moment  later  Don  Luiz,  too,  had  alighted 
beside  the  group,  and  caught  sight  of  the  crimson 
cloth  lying  in  the  cradle. 

"  'Father  Angelo,'  he  cried,  turning  to  the  priest. 
'Look,  Father,  you  were  right,  the  mark  of  the 
Voudoo  sacrifice;  but  she  is  saved!  Who  brought 
her  back?'  he  demanded,  turning  toward  the  Lady 
Gloria. 

"The  Lady  answered:  'I  was  here,  praying  for 
my  little  Carima,  when  I  saw  her  in  the  cradle,  just 
as  I  had  left  her.  God  sent  her  back  to  me.'  She 
turned  her  happy  love-lit  eyes  upon  the  Prince, 
her  husband. 

"Father  Angelo's  face  was  a  study  of  changing 
expression,  as  he  held  open  in  his  own  the  baby's 
tiny  hand,  smirched  with  black  palm  oil.  Then 
he  raised  his  eyes  solemnly : 

"'Prince  Pedro  and  my  Lady  Gloria,'  he  said, 
'  I  believe  this  child  was  sent,  as  you  say,  from  God  to 
redeem  these  people!  A  miracle  has  taken  place. 
Your  babe  was  doomed  to  die  as  a  sacrifice  to  the 
snake-god,  and  she  is  the  first  ever  known  to  have 
been  saved.' 

"  'The  legend!'  he  cried  with  inspiration,  after  a 
moment's  pause,  and  turned  excitedly  toward  Don 


THE  LEGEND  105 

Luiz.  '  I  believe  they  hope  to  use  this  child  as  a 
means  to  convert  the  nobles  to  the  worship  of  the 
snake.  But  that  must  not  be.  Instead,  she  must 
be  their  redeemer!  Their  superstition  will  give  her 
power  absolute,  and  by  it  she  must  save  them! '  His 
excitement  increased  at  each  word:  'Dei  gratid,  she 
must  be  educated  to  do  this  great  work!  She  must 
rule  and  civilize  these  wayward  people,  and  bring 
their  souls  to  our  God!  My  church  will  live  to  aid 
thee,  Donna  Carima  Jacinta  Desda  Ysabel  Astrados.' 

"The  Holy  Father  appeared  unconscious  of  the 
consternation  pictured  upon  the  three  faces  gazing 
at  him. 

"Crossing  himself  devoutly,  he  knelt  in  prayer 
before  the  babe;  then,  rising,  he  made  the  sign  of  the 
cross  upon  her  forehead. 

"'The  caprice  of  a  snake,  God-directed,  has 
crowned  thee  Queen  of  these  poor  people!  May 
God  give  thee  life  and  wisdom  to  redeem  them.' 

"The  Father  bent  low  before  the  cooing  infant." 

The  dial  was  again  crystal-clear. 

Hartley,  overcome  by  what  he  had  seen  and  heard, 
stood  staring  blankly  before  him. 

The  old  priest  Irmeo  broke  the  silence. 

"My  son  will  now  understand  the  great  work 
before  Her  Majesty,  our  Queen?  Yes?" 

"Yes,"  answered  Hartley,  "but  this  condition 
cannot  exist  to-day?" 

"More  forcibly  than  twenty  years  ago,"  was  the 
reply.  "Thou  art  convinced  now  how  impossible 
of  realization  is  thy  love  for  the  great  Lady,  our 
Queen?  Yes?" 


io6       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"No,"  cried  Hartley,  with  decision.  "No,  for 
now  that  I  understand,  I  will  make  this  my  life- 
work.  I  will  help  to  make  it  not  only  the  United 
States',  but  the  work  of  every  civilized  nation,  to 
humanize  these  people  and  bring  them  to  the  one 
God!" 

"  Tis  a  noble  thought!"  Priest  Irmeo  murmured. 
"Surely  the  love  of  a  great  woman  works  marvels; 
but,  my  son,"  and  he  looked  deeply  into  the  young 
officer's  clear  eyes,  "  thou  wilt  never  visit  that  land- 
save  in  spirit." 

A  cold  breath  passed  over  the  soldier's  heart. 

A  hasty  knock  upon  the  door  interrupted  them. 
A  man  entered,  threw  himself  upon  one  knee,  and 
announced : 

"Her  Majesty!" 

With  an  anxious  look  upon  his  face,  the  priest 
implored  Hartley  to  enter  an  alcove  within  the 
entrance  to  the  temple,  where  on  either  side  of  him 
appeared  a  huge  negro  holding  uncomfortably  near 
an  upraised  knife.  Their  piercing  eyes  and  eager 
attitudes  were  more  expressive  than  words. 

Before  the  officer  fell  a  curtain  splashed  writh  cubes 
of  colored  glass,  one  long  piece  of  which  not  far  from 
his  eyes  enabled  him  to  see  into  the  beautiful  room 
where  he  had  observed  such  marvels. 

He  saw  a  number  of  guards  in  picturesque  costume 
enter  and  place  themselves  on  either  side  of  the 
throne. 

There  was  a  pause,  and  then  in  the  arched  doorway 
appeared  a  woman  gowned  in  royal  robes,  the  wide 
massive  train  of  which  was  borne  by  two  tiny  nude 
black  boys. 


THE  LEGEND  107 

It  was  Carima  Astrados,  Her  Majesty,  the  Queen. 

In  vain  did  Hartley  search  for  some  trace  of  the 
lovely  girl  Carima  Astrados  whom  he  had  held 
within  his  arms  not  two  hours  since.  Before  his  eyes 
appeared  royalty  with  head  held  high  and  stately  dig- 
nity. Majestically  she  moved  toward  the  throne, 
while  her  attendants,  no  longer  fierce  of  aspect,  stood 
with  downcast  eyes. 

Following  the  Queen,  came  Signora  Piquero,  in 
a  rich  costume  of  black.  She  seated  herself  to  the 
royal  left  and  somewhat  behind  the  Queen. 

On  Her  Majesty's  right  awaited  the  old  Spanish 
priest. 

The  Queen  gazed  tenderly  upon  her  subjects  for 
some  moments;  then,  as  though  with  effort  concen- 
trating her  thoughts,  she  addressed  the  priest: 

"  We  give  you  audience,  friend." 

"  We  humbly  thank  Your  Gracious  Majesty  for  the 
honor  bestowed  upon  us.  It  was  more  promptly 
given  than  we  might  justly  have  expected.  Again 
we  thank  Your  Majesty." 

"And  for  what  reason  are  we  assembled?" 

"  Messages  from  Your  Majesty's  weeping  land  and 
rare  gifts  from  our  Queen's  betrothed,  His  High- 
ness, the  noble  Prince  Lyulph  Rodriguez  d'Orellno 
y  Tavarries." 

Hartley  listened  heart-faint,  spellbound  by  the 
last  portentous  words. 

The  Queen's  face  paled,  and  her  voice  was  plaintive 
indeed  as  she  murmured : 

"So  soon  again,  so  soon." 

"  We  have  letters  and  fair  gifts  from  Your  Majesty's 
glorious  home,"  pleaded  the  voice  of  the  Priest  Irmeo. 


io8       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

The  Queen  smiled  sadly  upon  the  old  man,  who 
raised  his  eyes  to  her  as  a  worshipper  to  his  God. 

"Anon,  caro  ?mo,"  she  said.  "I  want  not  state, 
naught  of  the  serious  to-night.  For  one  little  while, 
think  of  me  just  as  a  woman." 

Hope  glowed  again  in  Hartley's  eyes. 

"Ah,  let  us  talk  of  moonbeams  and  rare  melodies," 
cried  Queen  Carima.  j"  I  am  attuned  to  such  to-night. ' ' 

"I  beg  that  Your  Majesty  receive  the  packets  from 
the  Prince  Pedro,  Your  Majesty's  august  father. 
They  may  contain  important  news.  I  ask  it  as  a 
personal  favor,"  he  implored  most  humbly. 

She  paused  an  instant,  but  said  finally: 

"Sort.  Be  it  so;  to  please  you,  we  will  receive  the 
packets." 

Instantly  five  attendants  entered,  each  burdened 
with  a  gift.  The  first  approached  with  a  bundle  of 
letters.  The  Queen  glanced  upon  each,  raised  her 
father's  missive  lovingly  to  her  lips,  but  placed  it  un- 
opened with  the  others  upon  the  table  beside  her. 

Another  approached  bearing  a  casket  of  silver. 

The  Queen  waved  it  aside,  without  looking  at  the 
contents.  So  she  served  the  third  and  the  fourth 
bearer.  The  fifth,  and  last,  presented  a  scroll  of 
verses  from  the  Prince  Lyulph  d'Orellno  y  Tavarries 
to  her  most  glorious  person,  his  Queen. 

The  verses  were  written  in  the  blood  of  a  perfect 
white  peacock,  worth  its  weight  in  gold,  but  not 
even  to  these  priceless  words  would  the  Queen  listen. 

"My  friend,  what  knows  a  Prince  of  love?"  she 
sighed. 

The  old  priest  paled;  the  young  officer  in  hiding 
flushed  with  hope. 


THE  LEGEND  109 

"Your  Majesty  is  ever  in  the  right.  What  knows 
any  man  of  love?" 

The  Queen's  eyes  opened  wide. 

"How  mean  you?"  she  demanded. 

"  I  apprehend  that  Your  Majesty  speaks  of  human 
love  when  she  uses  the  word  love?" 

"Perhaps,"  answered  the  Queen,  gazing  over  the 
old  man's  head.  "Perhaps.  What  distinction  do 
you  make?" 

"  The  purity  of  Your  Majesty's  soul  will  comprehend 
my  poor  phrasing.  Yes?  When  I  forsook  the 
Voudoo  God  to  follow  Your  Majesty,  it  was  because 
your  sweet  faith  had  taught  me,  first  with  childish 
art,  later  with  garnered  wisdom,  of  the  one  God 
of  universal  good.  What  means  this  God  to  Your 
Majesty?" 

The  Queen's  face  lighted  with  a  holy  light. 

"How  often  have  I  told  thee,  friend,"  she  said 
indulgently;  "God,  to  me,  is  all  good  and  naught 
else.  When  a  little  child,"  she  continued,  after  a 
reflective  pause,  "I  searched  for  one  who  could  be 
always  with  me,  never  absent,  never  failing  me  in 
trouble  or  in  joy.  One  human  being  cannot  be  all 
this  to  another.  On  a  dark  August  night,  as  I  stood 
with  my  father  and  mother  watching  a  great  meteor, 
a  globe  of  green  light  which  burst  above  the  moun- 
tains, illuminating  the  cloud-country  and  revealing 
along  the  uplands  the  coffee-groves  waving  and 
bowing  their  heads  hi  the  winds,  I  was  seized  with  a 
fear  which  none  could  control.  That  night  I  found 
God,  and  ever  since  I  have  leaned  upon  His  wisdom, 
and  have  never  been  without  His  comfort." 

"  That  is  love,"  said  the  old  priest.    "  Can  any  man 


no       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

love  woman,  or  woman  love  man  with  such  a  love?" 

The  light  fell  from  the  Queen's  face. 

"Perhaps,"  she  said,  as  though  in  challenge;  but 
the  priest  shook  his  white  head. 

"We  beg  Your  Majesty  to  read  the  letters;  they 
may  be— 

"Anon,"  interrupted  the  Queen.  "I  would  be 
amused  to-night.  Have  you  progressed  with  the 
'Book  of  my  Life'?" 

"But  little,  Your  Majesty,"  he  answered,  the 
lines  upon  his  face  deepening  with  anxiety.  He 
glanced  toward  the  curtain  which  concealed  the 
lover. 

"Perhaps  the  word-pictures  would  recall  her  duty 
to  the  Queen,"  he  thought,  and  hurriedly  requested 
that  she  hear  the  last  chapter.  He  saw  that  she 
scarcely  observed  the  request,  but  she  nodded  ac- 
quiescence. 


CHAPTER  XII 

WHY  CARIMA  ASTRADOS  CAME  TO  WASHINGTON 

The  poet  brought  a  vellum  book,  and  bowed  low 
before  the  Queen.  His  melodious  voice  read  with 
gentle  accent : 

"Herein  is  written, 
To  be  printed  after  her  death, 
The  life  of  Her  Majesty,  Carima  Regina,  friend 
of  the  friendless." 

Her  Majesty  interrupted. 
"To  the  subject  of  the  eighteenth  chapter!" 
"Be  generous,  Your  Majesty,"  implored  the  Priest 
Irmeo  humbly.     "It  is  the  first  writing  only." 
The  Queen  nodded,  and  the  reader  began : 

"Oh,  the  joy  of  the  senses  that  mortals  call  the 
beauty  of  life!  Melodies  of  air  and  water,  rhythm  of 
head  and  heart,  perfection  of  form  and  color,  all  that 
make  existence  most  exquisite  were  to  be  found  in 
varying,  puzzling,  and  surprising  moods  on  that  day 
of  vivid  October  when  Donna  Carima  Jaciuta  Desda 
Ysabel  Astrados  reached  her  twentieth  birthday. 

"The  entire  island  world,  from  the  glittering  sea 
to  the  pastel  blue  of  the  glowing  sky,  rang  loud  with 
rapture,  for  the  eternal  song  of  the  babbling  tropics 
was  joy! 

in 


ii2       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"  'Twas  a  land  of  fairies,  of  dreamers,  of  lovers. 

"There,  it  would  seem,  dissension  and  tumult  could 
find  no  place,  yet  over  the  bosom  of  the  enchanting 
land  was  rising  the  voice  of  discontent,  for  the  in- 
habitants were  no  longer  satisfied  with  the  era  of 
prosperity  which  they  had  enjoyed  for  twenty  free 
and  plentiful  years. 

"During  this  time  the  power  of  the  Vbudoo  had 
increased  to  such  an  extent  that  meetings  were  held 
openly,  and  even  the  barbarous  celebrations  con- 
cluding with  human  sacrifice  were  no  longer  carried 
on  in  secret.  Work  throughout  the  island  was 
neglected ;  the  great  source  of  income  of  planter  and 
laborer,  the  fruit  of  the  coffee  plant,  remained  un- 
picked in  the  field;  the  sugar-cane  fell  rotting  with 
ungathered  sweetness,  and  the  odor  of  ripened  pine- 
apples lay  heavy  on  the  air. 

"Commerce,  too,  was  almost  stagnant;  the  great 
ships  whose  white  sails  had  dotted  the  blue  horizon 
and  crowded  the  shallow  harbors  came  but  seldom; 
for  the  harvests  of  grain  and  fruit  that  formerly 
awaited  their  arrival  had  woefully  decreased  in 
size  and  value. 

"Land-owners  in  the  outlying  districts  had  reported 
risings  of  the  natives  with  attendant  horrors,  but 
there  were  no  longer  sufficient  arms  nor  ammuni- 
tion to  suppress  these  riots.  These  disorders  had  in- 
censed the  members  of  the  Roman  Catholic  Church, 
strong  in  the  island  as  in  all  southern  climes,  and 
religious  differences  once  more  added  discord  to  an 
already  unsettled  and  dangerous  social  condition. 

"Here,  too,  as  vultures  to  the  dead  carcass,  had 
come  the  politician,  priest,  noble,  and  diplomat,  no 


WHYCARIMA  AST RADOS  CAME    113 

matter  how  exalted  his  station,  ever  scenting  'graft' 
amid  the  magnolias  and  humming-birds. 

"Each  one,  individually  and  collectively,  fanned 
the  flames  of  discontent,  and  a  change,  a  revolution 
seemed  inevitable.  Thus  the  Voudoo,  the  Cath- 
olic, and  the  politician,  each  and  all  looked  to  the 
daughter  of  the  great  House  of  Astrados  for  aid  and 
patronage  and  the  weight  of  her  influence  to  control 
and  improve  the  situation. 

"  Fate's  moving  finger  already  rested  upon  Time's 
dial  and  hovered  over  '  Sylva  Loleta/  the  residence 
of  the  Prince  Pedro  Astrados. 

"  'Donna  Carima,  Donna  Carima,  where  are 
you?'  called  the  soft  voice  of  the  lady  in  waiting, 
Signora  Piquero.  'The  Prince,  your  father,  desires 
to  speak  with  you.  He  is  on  the  terrace.  Donna 
Carima!' 

"At  the  head  of  the  marble  steps  appeared  a  tall 
slender  girl  in  answer  to  the  call. 

"  'The  Prince  awaits  you  these  ten  minutes.' 

"'I  am  here/  smiled  Donna  Carima — she  of  a 
beauty  to  rejoice  the  stars — and  moved  toward  the 
terrace  which  overlooked  the  strange  deep  waters,  ever 
changing  into  myriad  hues  under  the  setting  sun. 

"The  Prince  Pedro  Astrados,  reclining  on  the 
terrace  in  the  full  rays  of  the  waning  light,  had 
watched  his  beautiful  daughter's  every  movement 
as  she  approached  him,  while  a  smile  of  satisfaction 
played  across  his  proud  features.  He  scanned  her 
closely  from  head  to  foot,  then  drew  her  gently  down 
to  his  side. 

"  'Sit  here  at  my  feet,  my  Carima,'  he  said;  'I've 
many  thoughts  to  share  with  thce.  First,  what  has 
8 


ii4       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

occupied  thee  to-day?  Has  poetry,  politics,  or  love 
engrossed  thee?'  He  smiled  lightly,  but  his  voice 
was  deep  with  meaning. 

"Donna  Carima  pressed  her  lips  to  his  hand. 

"'My  brilliant  father  lacks  insight  this  evening,' 
she  smiled.  'Even  my  poetry  is  forsaken.  I  have 
been  thinking  of  the  Prince  Lyulph  Rodriguez.' 

"'Thou  wilt  wed  with  him?'  cried  her  father, 
springing  to  his  feet  in  his  excitement.  'With  your 
united  fortunes,  aided  by  the  Church,  the  prophecy 
of  liberation  of  our  island  will  be  fulfilled ! ' 

"The  beautiful  Carima  shook  her  head  most  wist- 
fully. 

"  '  Sit,  my  father,  and  I  will  tell  thee  why.  Thou 
knowest  the  legend  which  thou  and  Father  Angelo 
have  so  often  told  me — "that  rebellion  will  arise 
and  peace  be  restored  only  by  a  child  of  true  love; 
and  that,  during  the  reign  of  this  child,  peace  and 
prosperity  will  return  and  happiness  hold  sway 
throughout  the  land."  Truly  a  strange  legend!  I 
have  been  taught  that  I  am  the  chosen  one;  but 
I  know  only  that  I  was  born  of  truth  in  love,  and  I 
must  live  true  to  myself  always.  Love  has  not  yet 
spoken  in  my  heart;  so,  this  rebellion  must  continue.' 

"With  sudden  sympathy  at  the  disappointed  face 
before  her,  she  cried  again: 

"  '  Caro  padre,  if  it  were  right  I  would  willingly 
sacrifice  myself  for  my  people;  but  it  is  not  right 
and,  therefore,  the  sacrifice  would  be  worthless.' 

"The  Prince  responded  sadly  to  his  daughter's 
coaxing  smile.  He  covered  her  hand  lovingly  with 
both  of  his. 

"'My  Carima,'  he  began,  'our  island  is  on  the 


WHrCARIMAASTRADOSCAME    115 

verge  of  a  change,  perhaps  war.  The  people  resent 
the  rule  of  priesthood.  They  demand  freedom.' 

"  'Yes,  yes,'  interrupted  Donna  Carima,  'I  under- 
stand. Thou  wouldst  have  me  sacrifice  my  heart 
to  free  my  people.' 

"  'No,'  replied  the  Prince.  'I  would  not;  neither 
am  I  content  that  thou  shouldst  be  the  instrument  of 
the  priests.  I  feared  thy  answer  to  the  Prince 
Lyulph,  and  have  prepared  an  alternative.  I  -wish 
thee  to  rule  supreme — supreme,  as  Queen  of  thy 
people!'  He  whispered  the  last  words  softly,  and 
not  without  a  cautious  scrutiny  of  the  surroundings; 
then  he  drew  a  heavy  scroll  from  under  the  silk 
coverlet.  'Read  this,'  he  continued.  'Herein  are 
written  the  instructions  and  full  details  of  the  manner 
in  which  we  will  place  thee  securely  upon  the  throne. 
Power,  money,  popular  applause,  and  the  throne  are 
—thine  alone,  my  august  daughter!' 

"  Donna  Carima's  eyes  followed  each  line  upon  the 
parchment  until  her  mission  to  a  foreign  land  lay 
pictured  before  her.  Slowly  she  straightened  and 
rose  from  the  folds  of  her  coiling  yellow  robe  until, 
her  ambition  thoroughly  aroused,  she  stood  panting 
like  a  young  tigress,  her  eyes  wide  and  liquid,  her 
nostrils  quivering,  and  her  white  bosom  rising  and 
falling  in  the  sun's  light.  All  softness  vanished 
from  her  face,  and  the  full  strength  of  womanhood 
asserted  the  force  of  the  blood  which  spoke  in  her 
veins — a  vital  force,  which  her  birthright  had  brought 
her  from  the  ancient  kings. 

"The  Prince  smiled  his  satisfaction  upon  his 
glorious  daughter  when  a  rustle  of  silks  recalled 
him  to  himself.  The  Lady  Gloria  was  advancing 


n6       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

toward  them.  She  was  a  beautiful  woman,  as  full 
ripe  fruit  is  most  beautiful  when  the  glow  of  autumn 
tints  its  maturity.  Her  name  bespoke  her  from 
the  glories  of  her  gold-bronze  hair  to  her  brilliant 
smile  which  lighted  up  a  soft  linelcss  face  of  such 
perfect  contentment  that  one  smiled  unconsciously 
in  admiration  and  in  reply. 

"The  Prince  rose  instantly,  for  even  ambition 
seemed  to  sink  to  naught  in  the  presence  of  the 
Lady  Gloria. 

"Donna  Carima  glided  back  to  the  inner  terrace. 
She  rang  a  bell  imperiously,  and  a  maid-servant 
appeared  with  arms  folded  crosswise  upon  her 
breast  and  eyes  lowered  to  the  ground. 

" '  Some  well-ground  coffee  grains,'  commanded 
Donna  Carima. 

"She  opened  the  scroll  and  lay  engrossed  in  the 
contents  until  the  maid  reappeared,  bearing  a  vase 
filled  with  dark  powder  which  she  emptied  in  a 
pyramid-shaped  heap  upon  the  terrace  floor,  bowed, 
and  withdrew  backward. 

"'It  is  my  fortune,'  cried  the  girl.  'I  want  a 
splendid  fortune,  a  wonderful  one — of  adventure, 
love,  and  happiness.' 

"As  she  spoke  she  closed  her  eyes  and,  stooping 
low,  blew  three  full  breaths  upon  the  grains,  scatter- 
ing them  in  a  fluttering  whirlwind.  She  knelt  before 
the  magic  grains,  made  a  cross  upon  her  forehead  with 
closed  eyes,  and,  opening  them,  regarded  with  deep 
interest  the  secret  signs  awaiting  her  interpretation." 

"Attention,  mon  ami,"  interrupted  the  Queen 
who  up  to  this  point  had  listened  with  intense 
eagerness,  occasionally  nodding  her  beautiful  head 


WHY  CARIMAASTRADOS  CAME    117 

in  affirmation.  "I  remember  well  the  manner  of 
the  fortune.  It  was  this." 

The  Queen  spoke  slowly,  reminiscently,  as  though 
indeed  re-reading  her  fortune: 

"I  saw  myself  starting  upon  a  journey — a  long,  an 
adventurous  journey."  Her  white  hands  enfolded 
one  another  like  soft  rose  petals.  "  I  saw  many  happy 
signs,  some  tears,  and — one.  lover! 

"  Ah,  yes,  I  saw  him  then  as  clearly  as  I  saw  him 
afterward  on  that  fair  morning  when  he  came  to  me. 
All  the  love-signs  blossomed  about  him  in  the  divina- 
tion. What  marvellous  love!"  With  sparkling  eyes 
the  Queen  smiled  at  sweet  memory.  "I  saw  not 
happiness,  yet  there  were  all  the  love-signs — all,  so 
happiness  will  come?" 

The  priest's  terror  was  plainly  written  upon  his  face, 
but  he  controlled  his  features  and  forced  a  smile,  as 
the  Queen  glanced  beseechingly  at  him  in  interrogation. 

Her  Majesty  rose  and  stared  before  her  as  though 
the  signs  were  written  in  the  air.  "The  rest  was 
blurred  and  indistinct,"  she  said  slowly,  ''all  but 
the  love-lights.  Ah,  they  were  marvellous!" 

A  lengthy  pause  ensued.  The  old  priest's  lips 
moved  in  mute  agony,  but  he  dared  not  address 
unbidden  the  Queen.  The  silence  was  ominous. 

The  Queen  spoke  again :  "  Turning  from  the  reading 
of  my  future,  I  saw  my  father  and  mother  in  each 
other's  arms.  They  had  taken  their  love  and  the 
reward  was  happiness." 

Oblivious  to  the  terror  pictured  in  the  faces  about 
her,  Queen  Carima  clasped  her  hands  in  ecstatic 
fervor  and  cried : 


n8       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"  Father  of  life,  bless  me  with  the  love  of  my  soul, 
and  our  island  can  live  without  a  King  or — Queen!" 

At  this  wild  speech  the  Queen's  followers  raised 
their  eyes.  They  looked  appalled,  as  for  the  first 
time  they  realized  that  their  Queen  was  yet  a  woman 
and  the  possessor  of  a  woman's  heart.  More  than 
one  glared  vengefully  toward  Hartley's  concealed 
form. 

The  young  officer  had  no  fear,  however,  for  he 
was  filled  with  joy. 

The  Queen,  with  a  soft  sigh,  turned  to  the  old  priest : 

"My  friend,"  she  said,  her  smiling  face  suddenly 
changing  to  deep  concern,  acan  you  not  see  how  I 
am  torn  between  the  master  passion  of  love  and 
the  great  dragon  duty?  I  glow  with  my  mother's 
tender  romance  and  poetry  of  soul.  I  found  my 
lover  by  chance,  just  as  some  truant  sunbeam  un- 
covers treasures  rare.  We  are  unlike,  as  the  ruby's 
fire  is  from  the  pearl's  pink  lustre,  and  yet  how 
often  does  God  blend  those  two  in  most  harmonious 
order!  Ah,  my  friend,  what  is  greater  than  love?" 

At  last  came  the  old  priest's  opportunity,  and  well 
he  used  it. 

"I  would  not  dare  to  criticize  Your  Majesty's  ut- 
terance, understanding  Your  Majesty's  poetic  soul, 
but  at  this  moment  comes  a  request  from  a — little 
friend  of  ours.  We  remember  the  little  Ysabel 
Norah  Hastings,  the  daughter  of  the  English  gentle- 
man who  came  to  our  island  with  his  invalid  wife 
and  occupied  the  Picot  estate.  We  pray  Your  Majesty 
remembers.  It  was  for  love  of  Your  Majesty's 
beauty  that  the  parents  did  name  the  little  one 
Ysabel,  it  being  Your  Majesty's  august  name." 


WHYCARIMAASTRADOSCAME    119 

"Yes,  well  do  I  remember.  I  loved  the  child  for 
her  sweet  voice.  Indeed,  they  should  have  named 
her  'song  bird.'  But  what  has  she  to  do  with  this 
audience?"  demanded  the  Queen. 

"Pardon,  Your  Majesty,  I  crave  pardon  for  not 
reporting  this  all-important  news  'ere  now;  but  I 
feared  to  inflict  grief,  knowing  Your  Majesty's  strong 
convictions  against  the  Voudoo  customs." 

The  priest  paused  with  studied  effect.  The  change 
was  instantaneous.  Paling  with  rage  and  horror, 
the  Queen  lifted  her  hand. 

"Speak,"  she  commanded,  "speak  quickly!" 

The  priest  drew  from  under  his  monk's  garb  a 
small  parchment  and  unrolled  it  before  the  Queen's 
eyes,  but  she  turned  away  her  face  in  anguish. 

"Show  me  not  that;  tell  me  in  few  words  the 
horror." 

"On  the  tenth  day  of  this  month  a  meeting  was 
held  in  the  Temple  of  Danh-Gbi.  Every  child  upon 
the  island  had  been  guarded  day  and  night  previous 
to  the  festival.  Little  Ysabel's  mother  grew  suddenly 
worse;  she  died.  For  a  few  moments  only  the  girl 
was  left  alone.  In  those  few  moments,  however,  she 
was  stolen  and  hung  for  four  days  under  the  cage  of 
the  snake-god — hung  by  her  feet  and  hands!  On 
the  night  of  the  festival  she  was  sacrificed  to  the 
snake!  The  father  now  mourns  for  his  dead  wife 
and  murdered  child,  and  in  his  anguish  calls  upon 
Your  Majesty,  whom  all  love  and  in  their  hearts,  as 
we  in  ours,  have  crowned  their  Queen. 

"Oh,  Your  Majesty,"  continued  the  priest  prayer- 
fully, "in  God's  name  hear  your  people  mourning 
their  murdered  babes,  and  forsake  them  not." 


i2o       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Enough!"  murmured  Queen  Carima,  and  all  was 
silent  save  the  weeping  of  the  woman  upon  the  throne 
and  the  waiting  woman  seated  behind  her. 

Hartley  stared  out  upon  the  scene,  and  moisture 
dimmed  his  sight  also. 

The  beauty  of  the  surroundings,  the  enchanted 
atmosphere,  all  had  changed.  Horror  seemed  to 
float  upon  the  air  and  suffocate  him,  soldier  though 
he  was.  In  an  instant  what  had  seemed  a  paradise 
suggestion  had  changed  into  a  hell,  reigned  over  by 
a  monster  snake! 

Again  he  saw  Carima  Astrados,  but  unlike  the  girl 
he  had  known,  or  even  the  Queen  he  had  been  gazing 
upon.  She  stood  at  her  full  height,  her  eyes  flashing, 
her  breast  heaving,  her  nostrils  quivering,  every  fibre 
of  her  being  mutely  shrieking  the  wrath  that  pos- 
sessed her.  Raising  her  arms  with  majestic  power, 
she  spoke  in  a  tongue  unknown  to  Hartley,  spoke  in 
high-pitched  tones,  spoke  with  a  force  and  fury  that 
suggested  masculine  strength.  Finally  she  stopped 
and  pressed  her  hand  against  her  heart,  as  though 
entirely  overwhelmed.  An  instant  later  she  stepped 
from  her  throne  and  swept  out  of  the  room. 

A  smile  of  satisfaction  rested  upon  the  dark  faces, 
as  all  passed  out  after  Carima  Regina,  all  save  the 
priest. 

The  room  became  dark.  A  hand  touched  General 
Hartley's.  He  shuddered,  for  the  hand  was  cold  as 
steel.  He  suffered  himself  to  be  led,  however,  he 
knew  not  whither.  A  door  opened  and  closed.  The 
officer  found  himself  again  in  the  moonlit  garden, 
and  alone. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

"Lips  ARE  SMILING,  HEARTS  ARE  ACHING,  ACHING 
ALL  THE  WHILE" 

Nature  seems  ever  working  against  man,  as  upon 
the  most  beautiful  suffering  engraves  cruel  telltale 
lines  to  mar  them,  and  Carima  was  not  exempt. 
Pale  and  unhappy,  she  sipped  her  golden  coffee  in 
her  great  drawing-room,  and  endeavored  to  control 
her  nervousness  by  means  of  the  strong  stimulant. 

The  faithful  Luiza  peeped  through  the  portieres, 
but  dared  not  unbidden  enter  the  Queen's  presence. 

Carima's  fancy  continued  to  dwell  upon  the  horror 
reported  from  her  land,  mingled  with  sweet  hopeless 
thoughts  of  her  lover.  Her  deep  eyes  looked  wide, 
darkened  with  blue  shadows,  while  the  lines  about 
her  mouth  and  the  determined  outline  of  chin  and 
jaw  which  had  been  unnoticeablc  a  few  hours  before 
detracted,  perhaps,  from  the  chiselled  beauty  of 
her  features,  but  added  a  strength  and  force  to  her 
white  face  far  beyond  the  power  of  beauty.  The 
flower-like  Carima  had  gone  forever,  but  in  her  stead 
was  born  a  strong  woman,  an  undeniable  force  in  the 
future. 

Once  more  she  held  a  book  between  her  trembling 
fingers,  but  could  not  read;  her  eyes  ached.  She 
touched  the  silver  bell  with  scant  patience. 

"  More  coffee,"  she  ordered,  as  Hippolyte  appeared 
before  her. 

121 


122       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

The  black  man  regarded  his  Queen  with  humble 
worship.  He  would  willingly  have  sacrificed  his 
poor  life  to  shield  her  from  a  moment's  anguish,  but 
such  glory  was  denied  him.  He  could  only  serve  her 
faithfully. 

"Your  Majesty,"  he  ventured,  "Senator  Truesdale 
has  called  twice  this  evening.  He  now  awaits." 

"I  am  not  receiving,"  said  Donna  Carima;  then 
changed  her  tone.  "I  will  see  the  Senator.  He 
may  bring  news.  Serve  cognac  with  the  coffee," 
she  called  after  the  retiring  figure. 

A  few  moments  later  Truesdale  entered.  He  was 
a  man  of,  perhaps,  fifty  years  of  age,  large  and  witfy 
an  over-ponderous  dignity.  His  heavy,  but  classic, 
features  were  stamped  with  the  excesses  of  life,  both 
from  his  fight  with  the  world  and  his  enjoyment 
thereof.  The  Senator's  eccentric  dress,  low-cut 
spreading  collar,  and  flowing  tie  made  his  heaviness 
the  more  conspicuous.  Slightly  touched  with  gray, 
his  thick  hair  was  brushed  softly  from  his  splendid 
brow,  while  his  eyes  gazed  critically  from  under  their 
drooping  lids. 

He  strode  toward  Donna  Carima,  and  took  her  ex- 
tended hand  in  his  own,  pressing  it  with  evident 
delight. 

"  You  look  ill,  my  Queen,"  he  said,  scrutinizing  her 
closely. 

"I  am  ill,"  she  replied  with  a  wan  smile,  "quite 
ill." 

"Then  it  was  good  of  you  to  see  me." 

At  that  moment  Hippolyte  entered,  bearing  a  tray. 

"May  I  offer  you  coffee  and  cognac?"  asked  the 
hostess. 


SMILING  LIPS,  ACHING  HEARTS    123 

"Ah,  yes;  no  coffee,  but  a  little  cognac,  if  you 
please,"  responded  Truesdale. 

"Serve  the  Senator,"  Donna  Carima  ordered,  not 
trusting  her  trembling  hand. 

"Ah,  what  made  you  ill?"  asked  Truesdale  sym- 
pathetically. 

"I  should  be  wiser  than  our  physicians  were  I 
able  to  answer  such  questions,"  she  laughed.  "Per- 
haps my  book,"  she  added  evasively,  holding  the 
dainty  volume  toward  him. 

"The  famous  Queen  of  Scots,  eh?"  observed  the 
statesman,  as  he  glanced  at  the  title.  "Well,  she 
was  a  bird  in  her  day.  Wasn't  she  beheaded  or 
something  of  the  sort?1'  he  asked,  sipping  his 
brandy  and  expanding  in  good  humor  with  every  sip. 

"She  had  the  fault  ,of  most  women,"  observed 
Donna  Carima  thoughtfully.  "She  craved  love." 

"Love,  eh?"  repeated  the  Senator,  while  his  eyes 
took  in  every  line  of  her  exquisite  figure.  "  I  thought 
she  was  cruel,  bad,  ambitious." 

"She  was  crushed  into  being  unscrupulous;  but 
what  made  her  so?"  demanded  Donna  Carima 
warmly.  "Her  desire  for  love!  Through  her  over- 
fed vanity,  through  her  ambition,  through  her  every 
fault  and  every  virtue  rang  the  cry  for  love — only 
love!" 

"Is  that  so?    Well,  now  tell  me  about  her." 

Donna  Carima  smiled  wistfully  upon  the  worldly 
man  before  her. 

What  were  his  motives  in  visiting  .her,  she  won- 
dered. Was  he  truly  interested  in  the  redemption 
of  her  people?  The  Senator  was  looking  at  her  from 
under  his  heavy  lids,  and  she  hastened  to  speak  again. 


124       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"First  came  blond  Darnley,"  she  began.  "Mary 
loved  him  until  Ms  own  drunken  nature  tore  away 
the  rosy  clouds  she  had  woven  around  him.  Next 
followed  the  romantic  lowborn  Italian;  but  he 
loved  her.  They  murdered  him  within  her  hearing! 
Then  heartless  Bothwell,  but  a  man  with  manhood 
for  which  she  craved.  Poor  Queen  Mary  could  not 
find  one  good  man  in  all  her  court  to  love.  So  this 
marvellous  woman  was  dragged  from  her  queenhood 
by  men  and  killed  by  a  woman !  So  goes  the  Queen 
of  Romance,  for  so  she  is  to  me.  Ah,  the  cruelty  of 
love!"  Donna  Carima  stopped  short,  realizing  that 
her  excited  state  of  mind  was  likely  to  carry  her 
quite  beyond  herself. 

"Brava!"  cried  the  Senator.  "You  surpass  Bern- 
hardt!  You  can  bring  tears  as  quickly  as  laughter, 
and  all  the  laughter  I  have  had  this  season  you  have 
given  me." 

With  an  effort  Donna  Carima  controlled  her 
thought  and  centred  it  upon  the  man  before  her. 

"What  is  the  difference?"  she  said  with  a  bewitch- 
ing shrug.  "Two  extremes  expressing  the  same 
end— life!" 

"Is  that  the  answer  you  have  found  to  our  per- 
plexing little  problem  called  life?"  asked  Tmesdale 
curiously. 

"No,"  she  smiled  upon  her  distinguished  ques- 
tioner, and  at  the  same  moment  realized  the  im- 
possibility of  his  understanding.  "No.  I  think  the 
secret  of  living  is  possessed  by  those  only  who  learn 
renunciation." 

"Then  life  with  you  is  a  cutting-out  process. 
Damned  uncomfortable  solution,  thank  you!"  ex- 


SMILING  LIPS,  ACHING  HEARTS    125 

claimed  the  Senator,  regarding  intently  the  warm 
flushed  pink  of  her  throat  through  the  meshes  of 
lace  which  covered  it.  He  sighed:  "I  may  just  as 
well  remain  a  Methodist.  Hell  and  brimstone  in 
the  next  world  is  about  as  good  to  me  as  hell  in  this 
one."  He  laughed  and  re-filled  his  glass. 

There  was  a  pause,  broken  by  a  fluttering  over- 
head which  attracted  his  attention.  He  saw  a  huge 
cage  of  doves  swinging  in  mid-air;  one  soft  gray 
creature  flew  to  the  uppermost  perch  and  began  to 
call  pleadingly  to  its  mate.  The  velvety  cooing 
seemed  to  stir  the  Senator  strangely.  He  changed 
color  and  touched  the  cognac  to  appreciative  lips. 

"By  Jove,  this  is  fine  liquor,"  he  chuckled,  re- 
garding his  hostess  with  glistening  eyes.  "Where 
did  you  get  it?" 

"I  brought  it  from  home,"  replied  Donna  Carima. 
"  I  will  send  you  a  case,  if  it  pleases  you." 

"Your  island  must  be  Heaven,"  commented 
Truesdale,  bowing  acceptance  and  lounging  back 
luxuriously  in  the  great  chair.  "It  is  the  one 
country  that  has  ever  created  a  perfect  woman. 
Yes,  you  are  perfect,  and  all  your  surroundings  are 
more  perfect  than  any  other  woman's.  Even  your 
wine  is  more  delicious." 

Donna  Carima  received  the  homage  as  a  queen, 
with  a  smile  of  acknowledgment,  but  Truesdale  drew 
his  chair  closer. 

"My  country  is  beautiful,"  she  rejoined,  "glori- 
ously beautiful,  and  I  love  my  people.  I  love  them 
dearly.  They  are  true  and  loyal  and  devoted,"  she 
continued  ardently. 

"To  you?"  laughed  her  visitor.    "How  like  a 


126       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

woman  sovereign!    They   may   steal   and   murder; 
but  if  they  are  true  and  devoted  to  me,  I  love  them!" 

He  watched  her  closely  and  did  not  fail  to  see  the 
shudder  of  horror  which  the  assumed  truth  of  his 
words  sent  over  her,  but  she  arose  indignantly. 

"  My  people  are  under  the  ban  of  superstition,  and 
for  their  freedom  am  I  here,"  she  said.  "For  their 
redemption  I  will  give  my  life;  for,  as  I  have  said,  I 
loVe  them,  not  because  they  love  me,  as  you  sug- 
gest, but  because  I  believe  I  alone  have  the  power 
to  help  them." 

The  pride  and  nobility  of  her  words  and  bearing 
dominated  the  man  of  the  world  before  her  despite 
himself,  and  he  stopped  smiling  and  listened  more 
intently.  Her  eyes  flashed  suddenly,  as  they  rested 
upon  him.  "Never  ridicule  them  again,"  she  com- 
manded warningly.  "They  are  my  people,  and  I 
love  them." 

•  The  Senator  arose  and  stood  before  the  Southern 
Queen  in  genuine  admiration.  He  thrust  his  hands 
deeply  into  his  trousers'  pockets,  and  narrowed  his 
eyes,  a  habitual  attitude  when  engrossed  in  mental 
schemes.  "Then  I,  too,  will  love  them,"  he  said 
fervently;  "for  I  love  you,  and  will  embrace  every 
theme  you  embrace  and  win  every  battle  you  cham- 
pion. Have  I  not  placed  my  honor  in  your  hands 
by  my  letter  of  to-day?  " 
•.  "  What  letter? "  asked  Donna  Carima  incredulously. 

"The  letter  in  which  I  told  you  that,  at  a  personal 
expense  of  thousands  of  dollars,  I  have  concealed 
upon  the  Brooklyn,  a  Government  transport  sailing 
at  dawn,  many  cases  of  arms  for  your  countrymen." 

"Arms?    For  my  countrymen?" 


SMILING  LIPS,  ACHING  HEARTS    127 

"Yes,  they  are  packed  in  cement  and  will  pass  as 
cargo,"  explained  the  Senator. 

"Wonderful!"  cried  Donna  Carima,  clasping  her 
expressive  hands  in  tremulous  excitement. 

"  At  the  expense  of  some  thousands  of  dollars  more," 
continued  Truesdale,  "these  munitions  of  war  will 
be  put  ashore  at  the  coaling  station  Carpp." 

"Yes,  yes,"  breathed  the  girl. 

"And  if  your  friends  there  are  as  clever  as  those 
you  have  made  here,  my  Queen,  there  will  be  no 
further  opposition  to  your  sovereignty." 

"Can  this  be  true,  my  friend;  for  you  are  my 
friend?"  cried  Donna  Carima,  radiant  with  joy. 
She  hastened  to  the  bell,  which  was  immediately 
answered. 

"Did  a  messenger  bring  a  letter  during  the  even- 
ing?" she  questioned. 

"  I  think  not,  my  Lady,  but  I  will  make  inquiries," 
replied  Hippolyte. 

Donna  Carima  turned  toward  Truesdale,  answer- 
ing the .  ill-concealed  anxiety  upon  his  face. 

"This  is  not  a  light  matter,"  exclaimed  the  Senator 
excitedly,  walking  up  and  down  the  long  room  and 
raising  his  voice  irritably.  "I  know  I  am  watched, 
as  all  public  men  are  watched ;  but  that  any  one  should 
dare  to  interfere  in  my  private  affairs  seems  incredible. 
That  letter  contains  not  only  my  honor,  but  an 
arraignment  for  treason  might  be  twisted  out  of  it. 
Using  a  Government  ship  to  transport  arms  and 
ammunition  to  a  foreign  shore  in  insurrection  is 
treason!" 

"Did  you  not  veil  your  words  as  well  as  your 
act?"  cried  Donna  Carima  nervously. 


128       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"No!"  almost  shouted  the  Senator.  "No,  I  was 
fool  enough  to  write  a  d—  -  fool  love-letter.  God ! 
I  never  realized  how  far  my  love  for  you  had  carried 
me!" 

Donna  Carima  became  rigid — emotionless.  His 
net  had  been  wound  so  cleverly  that  she  found  her- 
self in  a  dangerously  awkward  position. 

"You  mean  you  admire  and  will  help  me,"  she 
corrected  haughtily. 

"I  mean  I  adore  you;  I  mean  I  worship  you; 
I  mean  I  will  win  freedom  and  help  of  every  kind  for 
your  people,  and  I  can  do  it.  I  hold  the  War  Secre- 
tary in  the  hollow  of  my  hand.  I  shall  use  his  enemies 
to  fight  for  your  petition ;  to  defeat  him,  if  he  opposes 
us.  To-night  there  is  a  meeting  at  Cambertin's, 
and  that  meeting  means  success  or  failure  to  you.  I 
promise  you  on  my  word  of  honor  that  I  will  bring 
success  to  you;  and  the  price  for  your  country's 
freedom  will  not  be  your  life." 

"What  is  the  price?"  asked  the  girl  breathlessly. 

"Only  a  sweet  answer  to  my  love.  I  ask  for 
nothing,  however,  until  I  bring  you  success.  That  is 
fair,  is  it  not?"  he  questioned  eagerly. 

"Fair!"  exclaimed  Donna  Carina,  pale  with  in- 
dignation, and  drawing  herself  up  to  her  full  height. 
"Fair!  To  bargain  away  the  one  godlike  gift  we 
possess!  Do  you  know  what  is  reserved  for  those 
who  barter  love?  The  divine  gift  is  snatched  from 
them.  They  no  longer  retain  the  power  to  feel  or  to 
know  love.  It  is  a  law  that  love  cannot  be  bought 
nor  begged  nor  even  won;  it  must  be  given,  and  I 
cannot  give  my  love  to  you." 

"You  will!"  cried  Truesdale. 


SMILING  LIPS,  ACHING  HEARTS    129 

"  Will ! "  echoed  Donna  Carima  with  a  scornful  laugh. 
"  You  don't  know  love.  You  are  talking  of  sin." 

"And  you  are  talking  like  a  two-year-old,"  cried 
the  angry  statesman,  with  a  flushed  and  disap- 
pointed face.  " I  am  not  blind.  Look  at  this  house! 
You  have  changed  it  into  a  palace.  Look  at  your 
jewels!  Your  surroundings!"  he  waved  his  hand 
expressively.  "These  were  not  obtained  by  pretty 
words.  I  care  not,  if  he  be  king  or  emperor,  you 
shall  listen  to  me!" 

He  strode  toward  her,  but  with  a  quick  gliding 
movement  she  had  reached  the  farther  side  of  the 
table. 

"By  Jove,  you  are  magnificent!"  cried  the  de- 
feated Senator,  with  a  triumphant  ring  in  his  laugh. 

Her  hand  was  moving  toward  the  bell  when, 
springing  forward,  he  suddenly  arrested  it.  "You 
little  fool!"  he  cried.  "Don't  you  know  I  could 
ruin  you  if  you  had  me  ejected  from  your  house? 
What  would  your  woman's  explanation  be  in  the 
morning  compared  with  the  stories  I  could  circulate 
at  the  Capitol  to-night?  Please  don't  be  foolish. 
Who  would  sacrifice  for  you  what  I  have  done?  No 
treaty  of  this  kind  can  win  without  some  one  man 
behind  the  movement,  who  can  command  a  score  of 
others  to  work  like  hell  for  him.  This  is  not  a  child's 
game;  it  is  a  hard,  cold  fight.  Look  at  the  men  in 
it.  There's  Hartley.  He  was  won  over  through 
some  whim  of  Mrs.  Randolph's,  I  suppose,  as  Linda 
says  they  are  to  meet  at  Cambertin's  to-night. 
Don't  you  see  I  know  everything?  I  hold  all  the 
cards  known  to  politics,  even  to  Linda  Loving's  wits. 
Come,  be  sensible!" 
9 


ijo       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Donna  Carima  had  listened  to  his  reckless  pleading 
with  downcast  eyes;  but  now  she  turned  her  face 
to  him,  blazing  with  anger.  He  failed,  however,  to 
understand  her  meaning,  and  sprang  again  toward 
her  with  uncontrollable  desire.  "Come,"  he  cried, 
"my  sweet  Queen,  one  kiss!" 

A  low  whistle  sounded  from  Donna  Carima's  lips. 

Truesdale  reached  for  her  in  madness,  but  suddenly 
stopped,  he  knew  not  why.  All  power  had  left  him, 
and  he  stood  staring  at  her,  as  helpless  as  an  infant. 
Donna  Carima  glanced  past  the  Senator,  and  raised 
her  hand  quickly  in  eommand.  Truesdale  followed 
her  eyes  and  gesture.  In  the  window,  some  feet 
distant,  stood  a  huge  negro  who  at  an  indication  from 
his  Queen  came  slowly  forward,  his  great  eyes  fixed 
upon  the  statesman. 

An  instant  later  Senator  Truesdale  turned,  walked 
quickly  from  the  room,  and  disappeared  down  the 
stairway. 

The  black  guardian  Balteese  prostrated  himself 
before  his  Queen,  who  reverently  made  a  sign  above 
his  head.  He  rose  with  pleasure  beaming  from 
his  great  dark  eyes,  while  his  sovereign  lady  re- 
garded him  with  maternal  tenderness. 

"And  I  thought  that  you  were  worse  than  these 
men  of  civilization!"  she  said.  "No,  ye  are  riot,  for 
ye  know  not  what  ye  do." 

She  clasped  her  hands  in  unconscious  prayer,  and 
Balteese  withdrew. 

From  the  music-room  came  strains  of  peaceful 
melody.  Softly,  sweetly,  pitifully  they  rose  and 
fell.  A  sob  mingled  with  the  Schumann's  canon  in 


SMILING  LIPS,  ACHING  HEARTS    131 

B  minor,  and  Donna  Carima's  hand  clutched  her 
heart. 

"And  Leon?"  she  cried.  "My  Leon!  Is  he,  too, 
of  these  men?"  The  Senator  had  mentioned  him  in 
connection  with  Mrs.  Randolph. 

With  sudden  determination  Donna  Carima  turned 
toward  the  bell,  and  struck  it  violently.  "  I  will  see 
for  myself,"  she  determined ;  but,  as  she  stood  waiting, 
her  selfish  thoughts  paused  before  the  vision  of  the 
War  Secretary,  the  poor  old  man  who  was  to  be 
sacrificed  in  the  fight  for  her  success.  "Wheels 
within  wheels!"  she  cried  again.  "He  must  be 
warned  and  given  some  chance!" 

Hippolyte  entered  and  presented  the  lost  letter 
bearing  the  stamp  of  the  United  States  Senate. 

"I- crave  pardon,  Your  Majesty.  Luiza  took  the 
letter  to  Signora  Piquero,  who  awaited  Your  Majesty's 
admittance." 

"The  coupe  at  once.  I  wish  you  and  Balteese  to 
attend  me,"  commanded  Donna  Carima,  as  she  tore 
open  the  missive.  It  was  from  Truesdale. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

A  "CAPITOL"  CLIMBER 

Linda  Loving  had  always  been  an  artful  soldier 
under  fire  and  now  had  developed  into  a  successful 
general.  Association  with  active  minds  is  a  won- 
drous cultivator,  and  Linda  had  not  only  availed 
herself  of  opportunity  when  opportunity  beckoned, 
but  she  had  learned  to  go  a-hunting  for  the  goddess 
when  she  appeared  not.  So  it  happened  that,  from 
the  little  footing  which  the  visit  to  Donna  Carima 
Astrados  had  given  her  she  had  forced  the  social 
door  more  widely  open.  Indeed,  into  several  sanc- 
tums, which  her  profession  had  before  denied  her, 
she  somehow  and  some  way  now  entered  by  her  wits. 
Still,  it  was  patronage  bestowed  upon  her,  a  kind  of 
temporary  tolerance  allowed  with  the  waning  of  the 
season.  But  this  night  the  discontent  within  her 
ambitious  breast  had  scant  reason  for  existence 
truly ;  for  she  had  won  a  great  battle.  She  was  the 
invited  guest  of  Mrs.  Secretary  Randolph,  at  the 
urgent  request  of  Congressman  Sharp. 

The  dinner  had  been  a  successful  one,  and  the 
guests,  having  adjourned  to  the  drawing-room,  there 
exchanged  wits  in  true  national  style. 

Count  Flambeau  seemed  overflowing  with  good- 
nature, and  his  hostess  made  an  equally  brilliant 
foil.  The  Secretary  looked  ill,  but  he  smiled  gently 

132 


A  "CAPITOL"  CLIMBER          133 

and  sometimes  eagerly  at  the  abundant  good-humor 
about  his  board.  Linda  played  a  good  part,  too, 
but  her  thoughts,  and  often  her  eyes,  wandered  to 
where  Nicholas  Worthington  sat  distrait  and  gloomy, 
a  melancholy  contradiction  of  his  usual  self.  Sharp 
enjoyed  to  the  full  the  sweet  mixture  of  social  poli- 
tics, while  John  Durmont  tactfully  filled  all  gaps  in 
conversation  and  want  of  attention  with  a  dignified 
art,  which  was  scarcely  noticed  and  consequently 
little  appreciated. 

Simply  an  exchange  of  wit,  with  no  undercurrent 
of  attack,  however,  soon  palled  upon  the  restless 
Sharp.  He  had  brought  Linda  here  to  captivate 
either  Durmont  or  Nicholas,  for  the  purpose  of 
learning  the  ammunition  of  the  Secretary's  fortress; 
but  for  the  first  time  the  lady  had  failed  him.  He 
caught  her  eye,  therefore,  and  transmitted  a  message 
that  they  should  depart.  Linda  answered  the  cue 
and  arose  to  make  her  adieux. 

As  she  returned  in  hat  and  cloak,  Durmont  stopped 
her  in  the  outer  hall. 

"You  look  serious,"  observed  Linda,  smiling 
sweetly  and  speculating  at  a  solution  of  the  un- 
expected attention. 

"  Perhaps  I  am,  Linda,"  he  said  with  hesitation. 

John  Durmont  was  a  species  of  man  rare  in  Miss 
Loving's  experience,  a  man  who  did  not  seem  to 
recognize  temptation,  even  when  thrust  under  his  eyes 
in  the  form  of  an  attractive  woman.  He  was  orig- 
inal and  decidedly  difficult  to  handle. 

"Yes,  dear?"  she  began  encouragingly. 

"Do  you  know  young  Ryley?"  Durmont  asked 
bluntly. 


134       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Linda  began  to  see  more  light. 

"The  new  lieutenant?"  she  inquired,  and  then 
smiled  comprehendingly.  "I  lunched  with  him 
this  noon."  Her  eyes  twinkled  with  apparent 
knowledge. 

"Are  you  going  to  Cambertin's  to-night?"  the 
young  secretary  queried. 

"I  may — drop  in,"  Linda  said,  looking  quizzically 
up  into  the  face  of  her  questioner,  and  smiling  her 
sweetest  smile. 

"I  will  join  you  there,"  Durmont  declared,  and 
turned  abruptly  toward  the  drawing-room. 

Linda  felt  piqued.  Why  could  she  not  interest 
him,  just  a  little?"  Other  men  were  not  so  ada- 
mantine. She  laid  a  detaining  hand  upon  his  arm. 

"But,  my  dear,  John,"  she  said,  "you  really 
startled  me,"  and,  indeed,  genuine  surprise  rang  in 
her  voice.  "To  what  am  I  to  attribute  the  honor?" 

Durmont  paused  and  regarded  her  a  moment  before 
answering. 

"You  are  a  diplomat,"  he  observed  coldly.  "We 
can  play  together." 

Again  he  turned  away,  and  again  she  detained 
him,  this  time  with  a  touch  of  authority  in  her  voice. 
He  evidently  needed  her  in  some  way. 

"To  my  advantage?"  Linda  suggested  pleasantly. 

"Always,"  replied  the  young  man  gallantly. 

"A  little  supper?"  sighed  the  feminine  politician, 
quite  encouraged. 

He  assented  patiently:  "A  little  supper." 

"Wine?"  lisped  Linda,  trying  to  read  his  thoughts. 

"All  you  can  drink — and  more,"  he  said,  laughing 
in  spite  of  himself. 


A  "CAPITOL"  CLIMBER          135 

"Well,"  she  demurred.  "Well,  I'll  come.  Don't 
forget  your  purse." 

"  I  promise,"  Durmont  answered,  glancing  into  the 
drawing-room,  and  wondering  how  this  conversation 
could  amuse  a  clever  woman. 

"  It  would  be  awkward  for  me  to  pay  for  your 
supper,"  Linda  continued,  moving  as  though  to 
join  the  others.  "Hem!  eleven  or  so?  I  have  an 
engagement  earlier." 

He  bowed  assent,  as  Count  Flambeau  suddenly 
appeared  behind  them. 

"Do  I  intrude?"  asked  the  Count,  looking  in- 
quiringly from  one  to  the  other. 

"Not  at  all,"  answered  Linda  in  a  tone  that  was 
not  all  pleasantness,  "if  you  left  your  ears  behind, 
Count." 

"I  was  just  going,"  interposed  Durmont. 

He  bowed  and  passed  through  the  portieres  into  the 
drawing-room. 

"I  always  leave  my  ears  behind  in  Washington, 
Linda,"  the  Count  observed,  but  followed  Durmont 
with  his  eyes.  Then  he  turned  them  full  upon  the 
woman  beside  him,  and  asked  suspiciously: 

"I  heard  something  about  Cambertin's  to-night. 
What  did  it  mean?" 

Linda  looked  annoyed,  but  dared  not  say  where, 
in  her  thoughts,  she  wished  him  to  dwell. 

"You  might  tell  if  I  told  you,"  she  answered 
evasively. 

"You  know  you  can  trust  me,"  Flambeau  insisted 
harshly.  He  had  little  respect  for  woman  in 
particular,  and  none  for  the  "climbing"  class  in 
general. 


136       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Linda  knew  she  could  not  trust  him,  and  did  not 
intend  to,  except  to  her  own  advantage. 

"What  is  that  French  maxim  of  yours,  Count?" 
she  asked  sweetly.  "A  secret  known  to  one  is  1; 
known  to  two  is  two  ones,  which  makes  11;  known 
to  three  is  three  ones,  which  makes  111." 

"I  wish  to  know,"  exclaimed  the  Count  angrily. 

"Oh,  just  a  man  and  a—  "  said  Linda,  breaking  off 
insinuatingly.  She  feared  to  offend  a  clever  diplo- 
mat, still  she  was  determined  not  to  tell  him  the 
truth;  and  turning  her  eyes  full  upon  Mrs.  Randolph, 
she  added :  "  a  lady." 

"Who  is  the  man?"  he  insisted  with  keener  interest. 
He  smelt  a  faint  scent  of  gossip  which  might  be  dear 
to  him  indeed.  It  might  have  political  advantage,  too. 

"Who  do  you  suppose?"  Miss  Loving  asked  teas- 
ingly,  hoping  some  one  would  interrupt  and  relieve 
the  situation. 

"Hartley?"  Flambeau  questioned  eagerly. 

Linda  smiled.  "Perhaps,"  she  answered.  Her 
eyes  followed  Nicholas  Worthington,  however,  and 
she  moved  instinctively  forward  when  Count  Flam- 
beau again  spoke. 

"And  the  lady?"  he  commented,  regarding  his 
hostess  intently. 

"Oh  no,"  answered  Linda  tantalizingly,  "another 
lady — that  is  where  the  interest  lies.  You  won't 
tell  her,  will  you?"  with  another  glance  indicating 
Mrs.  Randolph. 

"Certainly  not,"  promised  Flambeau;  but  she 
was  confident  that  he  would.  "You  know  you  can 
trust  me,  Linda,"  he  added,  as  she  thought,  from 
habit,  but  she  smiled  sweetly  and  replied: 


A  "CAPITOL"    CLIMBER         137 

"I  know  I  can.    That  is  why  I  tell  you." 

Sharp  joined  them  at  this  moment,  and  Linda 
moved  toward  Nicholas  and  took  his  hand  with  true 
concern.  For  the  second  time  that  evening  she  had 
failed  to  interest,  but  her  chagrin  was  now  from  a 
sincere  heart,  not  vanity. 

The  subdued  softness  of  Nick's  brilliant  nature 
touched  her  and  created  a  desire  to  bring  back  his 
old  buoyant  self,  even  at  the  sacrifice  of  her  own  hap- 
piness. It  was  the  one  unselfish  affection  of  Linda's 
life — and  it  was  useless. 

Pitiful  it  is  to  note  a  woman  endeavoring  to  hold 
the  waning  affection  of  the  man  she  loves,  and  the 
change  in  Linda  was  marked,  indeed.  Her  tact, 
art,  wit  were  gone.  She  stood  desperately  willing 
to  give  or  to  do  aught  to  please  Nick  Worthington. 
This  very  desire  to  aid  him  moved  events  with  tragic 
force  to  a  sudden  awful  crisis. 

Amid  the  murmur  of  the  guests  she  gave  him  the 
little  knowledge  that  she  held : 

"Truesdale  called  twice  upon  Donna  Carima  to- 
day, and  this  evening  is  with  her.  From  her  boudoir 
he  goes  to  a  meeting  at  Cambertin's." 

Nick  swayed  until  Linda  feared  he  would  faint, 
as  she  whispered  her  stoiy.  He  was  sufficiently 
white  to  give  color  to  her  fear,  but  he  only  answered 
hoarsely : 

"Are  you  sure  he  fights  for  her?" 

"According  to  her  encouragement,"  smiled  Linda. 

Nick  bit  his  lips  mercilessly. 

"And  it  is  Truesdale  who  questions  the  com- 
missions granted  by  my  grandfather?  Be  careful 
that  you  tell  the  truth,  Linda;  this  is  a  serious 


138        THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

business,"  he  said,  clenching  his  fists  in  an  effort  at 
self-control. 

"It  is  Truesdale,"  repeated  Linda  confidently. 
"Nick,  you  know  I  would  not  lie  to  you.  Is  there 
any,  any  way  I  can  aid  you,  dear?" 

"No,"  said  Nick  shortly.  'll  only  wish  I  didn't 
have  to  leave  town  to-night." 

And  there  was  a  desperate  look  in  his  young  face. 


CHAPTER  XV 

"CASH  THIS  AND  SAY  NOTHING" 

Meanwhile  Mrs.  Randolph  had  approached  the 
two  conversing  men,  Count  Flambeau  and  Congress- 
man Sharp. 

"What  is  it?"  she  asked  graciously.  "A  story 
for  men's  ears  only?" 

"Oh  no,"  answered  the  diplomat,  elated  with  his 
newly  acquired  knowledge.  "I  have  heard  such 
beautiful  gossip!  But — "  he  added  sadly,  "I  am 
pledged  not  to  tell." 

"I'm  afraid  I  had  better  not  remain,"  interrupted 
Sharp  with  mock  concern,  "  if  it  is  too  risque  for  you 
to  tell,  Count." 

He  laughed  at  his  own  joke,  and  followed  Linda 
who  at  that  moment  was  leaving.  She  smiled  at 
Sharp,  however,  as  they  met.  It  was  apparent 
that  the  Count  was  enjoying  his  morsel  of  scandal, 
and  there  was  small  danger  that  he  would  not  repeat. 
It  consoled  Linda  not  a  little  to  note  that  the  more 
fortunate,  such  as  the  gay  and  spoiled  Mrs.  Ran- 
dolph, had  weak  points  of  attack  as  well  as  her  less 
prosperous  self. 

"I  am  beginning  to  be  entertained,"  the  hostess 
was  saying.  "Tell  me  the  end  of  it,  Count?"  Her 
tone  was  pleasant,  but  her  eyes  shone  with  a  keen 
light  Flambeau  had  evidently  interested  her,  and 
was  making  the  most  of  his  acquisition. 


140       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Who  can  tell  the  end  of  a  story  beginning  with  a 
supper  for  two?"  he  queried  plaintively,  spreading 
out  his  hands  in  true  French  fashion  and  ending 
with  an  elated  chuckle. 

"Who  makes  up  this  party  of  two?"  insisted  Mrs. 
Randolph.  "  What  is  the  point  of  your  story?" 

Flambeau  chuckled  again  as  he  regarded  her. 

"Who  would  have  believed  it!"  he  murmured 
tantalizingly. 

"Any  woman  who  knows  men,"  she  replied,  with  a 
contemptuous  look  at  him. 

"And  gentlewomen,"  he  added  maliciously.  He 
leaned  nearer  to  his  hostess,  but  hesitated  a  moment 
in  pleasant  anticipation.  Then  he  whispered :  "  Gen- 
eral Hartley  and  a — lady!" 

Mrs.  Randolph  drew  back  and  gazed  at  him  with 
astonishment. 

"Hartley!  Have  I  found  him  out  so  soon?" 
she  mocked.  "Hartley,  the  chaste — the — ' 

"You  grow  excited,  madame,"  observed  the 
Count  soothingly. 

The  Secretary's  wife  had  scorned  his  words  of  love, 
so  it  was  only  fair  revenge. 

"I  am  sorry  I  told  you,"  he  said.  "I  didn't 
know  you  cared."  He  spoke  kindly,  but  his  eyes 
held  a  cunning  gleam  in  their  twinkling  pupils.  Mrs. 
Randolph  laughed  her  rippling  worldly  laugh. 

"Care!"  she  cried.  "/  care  what  any  man  does! 
You  don't  know  me,  Count.  I  never  allow  myself 
to  care  for  any  one  or  anything.  Loving  hurts  too 
much;  it  is  a  bad  investment.  I  was  just  taking 
another  little  peep  at  this  funny  old  world,  and  you 
caught  me  peeping.  Don't  you  understand?" 


"CASH  THIS  AND  SAY  NOTHING"   141 

"I  understand  perfectly,"  responded  Flambeau, 
bowing  with  insinuating  grace,  but  quite  evidently 
disappointed  at  the  small  amount  of  sorrow  he  had 
been  able  to  cause  the  pretty  woman  near  him,  for 
the  control  of  the  emotions  was  an  unopened  book 
to  the  Frenchman. 

The  drawing-room  was  now  empty,  except  for  the 
Secretary,  who  sat  before  the  fire,  and  Nick,  who 
hung  over  his  chair,  talking  earnestly  to  him.  Mrs. 
Randolph's  gaze  rested  upon  them  through  the  open 
door-way  as  she  commented  pleasantly  to  the  de- 
parting Count. 

"Yes,  Nick  leaves  us  to-night.  I  must  say  good- 
bye to  him.  What  were  you  talking  about,  Count? 
I  really  have  forgotten." 

She  moved  toward  her  husband  and  his  grandson 
as  she  spoke.  The  Count  followed,  and  made  his 
elaborate  farewell  bow. 

With  his  departure  the  fair  Louise  sank  upon  the 
side  of  her  husband's  chair,  and  one  arm  crept 
softly  around  his  neck. 

"Clarkson,"  she  cooed,  "as  Nick  is  leaving  us  at 
ten,  will  you  take  me  to  Cambertin's  afterward? 
It  will  be  so  lonely  without  him,  and  they  say  there 
is  to  be  a  gala  time  there  to-night.  Every  one  is 
going."  The  crimson  in  her  cheeks  spread  as  she 
gazed  almost  beseechingly  at  her  husband. 

He  pressed  her  hand  gently. 

"I  am  sorry,  dear,"  he  said,  sighing  with  sincere 
regret,  "  but  I  never  go  there." 

She  rose  petulantly  and  left  the  room. 

Nick  looked  at  his  grandfather  with  tender  sym- 
pathy. He  took  the  place  left  vacant  by  Mrs.  Ran- 


142       THE  GIRL   IN  QUESTION 

dolph,  and,  bowing  his  curls  down  to  the  old  man's 
white  hair,  said:  "Granddad,  this  marriage  game  is 
an  awful  tragedy — or— a  great  blessing." 

"Who  has  caught  the  blessing?"  smiled  the  old 
Secretary,  a  tear  dimming  his  eye,  " — after  he  has 
passed  his  youth?"  he  added  philosophically;  but 
he  smiled  again  in  self-reproof  into  his  grandson's 
eyes.  "You  are  my  blessing,  my  boy.  I  shall  miss 
you  while  you  are  gone."  For  several  moments 
both  remained  silent,  the  young  curls  caressing  the 
old  head. 

"Granddad,  have  you  any  fear  of  Truesdale's 
rascality  against  you?"  Nick  asked  timidly  and 
very  low. 

The  Secretary  glanced  at  him  keenly;  then,  lift- 
ing his  hand  to  smooth  his  dark  hair,  he  laughed 
tenderly. 

"My  blessed  boy,  your  granddad  has  fought 
many  a  hard  fight  before  now  and  never  gone 
under." 

"But  perhaps  it  would  be  as  well  to  endorse 
the  Astrados  petition,"  suggested  Nick  with  hesi- 
tation. 

The  Secretary  regarded  his  grandson  earnestly. 

"  Nicholas,  he  who  fears  is  lost.  I  fear  no  man, 
my  boy." 

"Or  woman?  "  a,sked  Nick  nervously. 

John  Durmont  entered. 

"  Did  you  send  for  me,  sir?" 

"No,"  answered  the  Secretary.  "Perhaps  it  was 
Mrs.  Randolph;  she  is  up-stairs." 

"Thank  you,  sir.  Ah,  good-bye,  Nick,"  said  the 
young  secretary,  turning  toward  Nicholas  with 


«  CASH  THIS  AND  SAY  NOTHING  "   143 

extended  hand.  "You  will  be  going  soon,  won't 
you?" 

"Yes,  good-bye,  Durmont,  and  good  luck,"  an- 
swered Nicholas  warmly. 

"  Auf  Wiedersehen,  not  good-bye,  Nick,"  said  Dur- 
mont  with  his  frank  smile,  "and  God  speed!" 

They  clasped  friendly  hands,  and  Durmont  crossed 
the  room  and  mounted  the  stairs.  Mrs.  Randolph 
was  in  the  library,  looking  over  some  new  French 
novels,  as  he  approached. 

"Ah,  John,"  she  exclaimed  as  she  saw  his  re- 
flection in  the  glass,  and  turned  hastily  toward  him. 
"Will  you  do  me  a  favor?" 

"  If  I  can,"  he  answered  with  respectful  courtesy. 

She  held  a  check  toward  him. 

"Cash  this  and  say  nothing,  please." 

Durmont  took  the  extended  bit  of  paper  doubt- 
fully and  read.  " $2,000— Armand  Flambeau!"  he 
exclaimed  in  astonishment  as  his  eyes  caught  the 
signature. 

Mrs.  Randolph  watched  him  impatiently. 

"I  am  cashing  it  for  the  Count — a  little  business 
matter,"  she  explained,  and  wished  she  hadn't 
broached  the  subject. 

Was  it  possible  that  a  man  could  live  as  long  as 
Durmont  had  and  hold  absurd  scruples,  she  ques- 
tioned mentally  as  she  read  the  anxiety  in  his  face, 
while  he  glanced  from  the  check  to  herself. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  "but  it  is  difficult  to  hide 
things  in  life,  if  they  are  wrong." 

Mrs.  Randolph  flushed  scarlet  with  indignation. 

"What  do  you  mean,  sir?  The  Count  is  a  gentle- 
man!" she  declared  angrily.  "I  command  you  to 


144       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

bring  me  the  money."  Unconsciously  the  blue  satin 
slipper  was  stamped  upon  the  floor  as  her  words  were 
shot  forth.  Durmont  turned  white. 

"Mrs.  Randolph,"  he  said,  righteous  indignation 
thrilling  his  voice,  "it  is  not  my  business,  but  there 
are  things  being  done  at  this  house  which  certain 
people  might  misconstrue.  Commissions  are  being 
granted  to  officers,  government  contracts  let,  money 
passes!  If  some  malicious  mind  should  connect 
these  things — improperly  ? ' ' 

Mrs.  Randolph  interrupted  him. 

"Sir!"  she  cried,  fear,  however,  overpowering  her 
temper,  "I  shall  speak  to  the  Secretary!" 

"No,  you  will  not,"  quickly  and  firmly  replied 
Durmont.  He  looked  at  the  woman  before  him,  and 
remembered  she  was  not  only  the  Secretary's  wife, 
but  the  woman  the  Secretary  loved. 

"I  do  not  say  anything  is  wrong,"  he  said,  soften- 
ing at  the  thought,  "  but  I  wish  you  to  realize  what 
you  are  doing.  In  official  life  it  is  necessary  not 
only  to  do  right,  but  not  to  appear  wrong." 

As  he  spoke,  he  laid  the  check  on  the  table  before 
her,  but  she  drew  herself  up  angrily. 

"  You  need  have  no  fear,"  she  sneered. 

Durmont  looked  sadly,  hopelessly  at  her  a  mo- 
ment. "I  do  not  fear  for  myself,"  he  answered, 
"  but  I  do  fear  for  the  man  I  love  dearly,  and  whom 
I  hope  you  will  at  least  consider.  'Don't  cash 
the  check,  I  beg  of  you,  Mrs.  Randolph,"  he 
pleaded,  while  footsteps  sounded  on  the  polished 
floor  without. 

Durmont  stopped,  for  it  was  the  Secretary  himself 
who  appeared  in  the  doorway,  his  eyes  burning  with 


"CASH  THIS  AND  SAY  NOTHING"  145 

troubled  excitement.  He  held  a  pale  violet  envelop 
crushed  in  his  hand. 

"  Nick  has  gone,  my  dear,"  he  said  addressing  his 
wife,  "so  we  will  go  to  Cambertin's." 

"What!  have  you  changed  your  mind?"  laughed 
Mrs.  Randolph  with  sudden  delight. 

"Yes,"  he  acknowledged,  trying  to  smile.  "Per- 
haps I  have  caught  the  habit  from  you.  Come,  the 
carriage  will  be  here  in  ten  minutes." 


10 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BEHIND  THE  SCENES 

Cambertin's  is  so  well  known  to  every  one  who 
has  visited  Washington  that  description  is  useless. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  however,  that  it  is  the  spot  in  the 
capital  city  that  one  may  depend  upon  for  gayety. 

It  was  a  fair  May  evening,  and  Jones,  the  exclusive 
waiter  of  the  famous,  private  palm-rooms  on  the 
second  floor,  was  re-arranging  to  his  personal  satis- 
faction the  flowers  on  one  of  his  tables. 

The  palm-rooms  consisted  of  two  parlors,  artistic- 
ally decorated  with  a  great  barrier  of  tropical  verdure 
to  separate  them.  There  were  three  entrances  to 
the  rooms.  One  opened  upon  a  large  bright  hall; 
another,  quite  near  the  first,  led  to  the  street  by  a 
private  stair;  and,  still  another,  at  the  extreme 
end  of  the  second  room,  opened  upon  a  dark  passage, 
leading  to  the  front  vestibule. 

These  rooms  were  often  occupied  by  little  gam- 
bling parties  which  lasted  all  night,  sometimes  for 
two  or  three  consecutive  days  and  nights;  occasion- 
ally little  "Congressional  parties";  sometimes  little 
"Embassy  parties";  but  always  little  parties  on  the 
questionable  side  of  life,  even  if  only  a  "party  of 
two"!  Otherwise  the  guests  dined  in  the  big  crystal- 
room,  which  opened  off  the  bright  hallway  below. 

The  palm -rooms  formed  the  empire  over  which 
146 


BEHIND  THE  SCENES  147 

Jones  reigned  supreme,  and  he  had  reason  to  be  proud 
of  his  domain. 

Two  bells  sounded,  and  the  dusky  lord  rushed  to 
open  the  door.  He  admitted  James  Graham  with 
undisguised  pleasure;  for  Jones,  amid  other  triumphs, 
was  wed  to  James's  pretty  sister.  Also,  which  was 
perhaps  a  closer  bond,  Jones  and  James  had  been 
partners  in  several  small  "Congressional  jobs." 

His  interest  in  his  brother-in-law  ceased,  however, 
as  he  saw  the  large  and  impressive  negro  who  followed 
him. 

"Fo'  de  Lawd  sake,  James  Graham,  what  don', 
brung  yo'  heah?" 

"Good  even'  to  you,  Brudder  Jones,"  James  re- 
plied, glancing  a  little  fearfully  at  his  companion, 
"but  dis  am  a  frien'  ob  mine.  Whatsomeever  he 
desires,  I  begs  yo'll  obey  him,  sah,"  retorted  James 
obviously  flustered. 

Fear,  ever  contagious,  spread  itself  to  Jones. 

"Any  frien'  ob  yo's  is  a  frien'  ob  mine,"  he  com- 
mented, rubbing  his  hands  nervously  together. 

"Thank  yo,  Brudder  Jones.  Good  even'  to  yo', 
sah,"  he  added  over-politely  to  his  companion, 
Hippolyte,  and  made  an  agile  exit.  Jones  tried  to 
smile  in  his  friendly  fashion,  but  the  cold  dignity  of 
his  guest  forbade. 

Hippolyte  drew  from  his  pocket  a  bag  of  money  and 
counted  out  five  golden  eagles.  He  laid  them  before 
the  astonished  Jones  as  he  remarked: 

"There  is  a  lady  in  a  coupe"  below." 

"Oh,  a  cullud  lady?"  queried  Jones  with  interest. 
A  glance  from  Hippolyte  arrested  his  thought,  and  he 
apologized  hastily:  "I  does  not  presume  dat  yo' 


148        THE  GIRL   IN   QUESTION 

would  condescen'  yo'self  to  get  on  de  box  fo'  a 
cullud  lady,  sah.  Excuse  inch,  but  I  tho't  it 
might  be  a  pussonal  matter,  sah." 

Without  change  of  expression,  Hippolytc  pushed 
the  gold  toward  the  negro  and  said : 

"The  lady  is  alone.  She  wishes  to  come  here  for 
personal  reasons,  without  being  observed.  If  you 
can  do  this  the  gold  is  yours;  but  if  the  lady  is  not 
protected  you  will  not  live  after  to-night." 

Jones  shook  his  head  at  the  end  of  each  command, 
but  at  the  final  sentence  he  turned  gray  under  his 
black  skin. 

"  No  one  gets  up  heah  less  dey  gives  de  signal,  an' 
I  knows  'em.  I'll  humble  myself  in  yo'  favor,  to  de 
best  ob  meh  ability,  sah,"  he  ejaculated,  clutching 
the  gold  with  shaking  fingers. 

Two  sharp  bells  interrupted  the  negroes,  and  Jones 
rushed  again  to  the  door.  He  admitted  Senator 
Truesdale,  Congressman  Sharp,  and  Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Hartley  to  the  sanctum.  It  was  apparent  that 
Truesdale  was  under  the  weather.  Sharp  was  try- 
ing in  vain  to  procure  "news"  from  him.  Hartley 
looked  years  older,  but  was  saying  nothing.  Trues- 
dale ordered  whiskey  "for  three"  and  continued  to 
abuse  women  in  general.  Hartley  suddenly  caught 
sight  of  Hippolyte  as  Brudder  Jones  was  letting  him 
out.  He  arose  and  followed  the  negro  from  the  room. 

"Why  are  you  so  morose,  Truesdale?"  asked 
Sharp  when  they  were  alone. 

"No  reason,"  answered  Truesdale  sulkily.  "I — 
I  heard  of  a  strange  experience  to-day,  that's  all." 
He  drained  his  glass  and  became  more  confidential. 
"A  man  was  calling  where  there  was  a  black  magician, 


BEHIND  THE  SCENES  149 

who  worked  a  kind  of  confounded  spell  upon  him. 
The  man  left  the  house  without  knowing  he  had 
done  so,  and  was  a  mile  away  before  he  was  conscious 
of  what  had  happened.  Can  you  understand  it?" 
he  demanded,  turning  angry  eyes  upon  Sharp. 

"  Perhaps  the  black  man  was  a  Voudoo,"  answered 
his  companion  smiling. 

"What  is  that?"  questioned  Truesdale  testily. 

"Well,  the  Voudoos  evidently  have  learned  a  law 
of  forgetfulness  surpassing  that  of  a  married  man  in 
the  cold  gray  dawn  of  the  morning  after." 

"Oh,  talk  sense,  if  you  can!"  Truesdale  exclaimed 
impatiently. 

Sharp  laughed  good-naturedly. 

"All  I  know  of  the  Voudoo  is  an  experience  I  once 
had  myself,"  the  Congressman  explained.  "Some 
years  ago  I  got  into  trouble,  and  was  summoned 
into  court.  A  friend  told  me  to  go  to  an  old  Voudoo 
doctor  who  made  charms  that  would  do  anything. 
Expecting  to  be  entertained  by  some  fake  business, 
I  went.  This  old  doctor  was  as  black  as  coal  and 
appeared  to  be  very  rich.  After  some  precaution, 
and  much  ado  about  nothing,  he  gave  me  a  charm 
and  took  my  money.  The  next  day  I  appeared  in 
court,  with  not  much  faith  in  my  charm,  for  the 
constable  held  a  writ,  and  the  magistrate  was  set 
against  me.  As  I  say,  I  appeared  and  met  my 
enemies;  but  the  constable  walked  by  without 
noticing  me,  and  the  magistrate  did,  what  he  had 
never  done  before,  forgot  all  about  the  case.  Since 
then  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  swear  by  the  Voudoo.  But, 
truthfully,  I  put  it  down  to  a  strange  coincidence," 
continued  Sharp. 


150       THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Coincidence  can't  explain  everything  in  life," 
muttered  Truesdale  gruffly. 

"If  you  are  interested,  why  don't  you  attend  one 
of  the  Voudoo  meetings?" 

The  Senator  regarded  Sharp  irritably. 

"Do  you  think  I  have  nothing  to  do  but  take  a 
trip  to  Africa  or  Hayti?" 

"You  don't  have  to  go  to  Africa,  my  dear  Senator," 
said  Sharp.  "If  you  will  be  more  pleasant,  I  will 
escort  you  to  a  Voudoo  meeting  any  Tuesday  evening." 

"What!  a  Voudoo  meeting  in  Washington?" 

"Certainly,  within  a  few  blocks  of  the  White 
House,"  declared  Sharp,  as  he  turned  to  Jones  and 
asked:  "Any  chance  of  meeting  Secretary  Randolph 
here?" 

"No,"  interrupted  Truesdale,  answering  for  the 
servant.  "The  Secretary  does  not  resort  to  such 
places,"  he  added  with  a  sneer. 

"It  would  be  well  if  he  did,"  suggested  Sharp 
knowingly.  "  There  is  more  politics  here  than  at  the 
Capitol.  The  Secretary  is  taking  desperate  chances, 
Truesdale." 

"It  may  be  his  wife,  Sharp.  He  is  married  by  a 
large  majority,"  observed  the  Senator. 

"That's  right,"  acquiesced  Sharp.  "Wives  tell 
the  truth  to  every  one  but  their  husbands!  That's 
why  I'm  single." 

Truesdale  finished  his  whiskey  before  he  deigned 
to  reply. 

"Now,  look  here,"  he  said.  "I  hold  the  Secretary 
of  War  right  in  the  palm  of  my  hand.  I  have  a  list 
of  twenty  appointments  he  has  made  in  the  last 
year.  In  three  cases,  I  can  prove  positively — " 


BEHIND  THE  SCENES          151 

"Considerations!"  exclaimed  Sharp  excitedly. 

"Hush,"  commanded  Truesdale,  looking  about 
cautiously. 

"Does  the  Secretary  suspect  that  yoif  are  insti- 
gating his  enemies  to  a  Congressional  inquiry?" 
asked  the  Congressman  in  a  low  tone. 

"We'll  act  so  quickly  that  he  will  not  realize  it 
until  the  blow  falls."  There  was  a  flash  of  angry 
bitterness,  born  of  many  contests,  in  the  Senator's  eyes. 

"But  why  are  you  troubling  to  do  this?"  queried 
Sharp  suspiciously. 

"I  wasn't  good  enough  to  enter  his  family  when  I 
was  young;  but  now  he'll  feel  my  strength."  Sharp 
remembered,  too,  that  Truesdale  had  once  asked 
for  the  hand  of  Clarkson  Randolph's  daughter  and 
had  been  refused,  but  his  thought  was  arrested  as 
the  Senator  went  on.  "Then,  too,  he  has  ignored 
signing  a  treaty  I  am  interested  in  and  intend  to 
control.  If  any  one  refuses  to  aid  that  treaty,  it  is 
going  to  be  me  and  at  the  last  moment,"  he  said  in 
an  angry  undertone. 

"You  mean  the  Astrados  matter?" 

"That's  my  affair." 

"Somebody  may  tell  him,"  suggested  Sharp, 
drawing  closer  to  the  table  and  leaning  on  it. 

"My  friends  are  his  enemies,"  answered  Truesdale 
complacently. 

"But  your  wives?"  said  Sharp. 

"Oh,  they  hate  each  other  devotedly.  His  wife 
and  my  daughter  love  the  same  man,"  laughed 
Truesdale,  regarding  Hartley's  empty  chair,  and 
ordering  more  drinks. 

"Well,  that  is  too  bad,"  observed  Sharp;    "but 


152       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Linda  Loving  will  tell  us  what  is  doing.  She  can 
hear  and  see  further  than  any  woman  I  know,  and 
she  is  true." 

"To  Nick  Worthington?"  Truesdale  suggested. 

"Nonsense,"  replied  Sharp  irritably.  "She  only 
plays  him.  I  have  often  thought  that  Linda  ought 
to  be  in  Congress." 

"I  think  she  prefers  the  army ;  it's  less  respectable," 
laughed  Truesdale,  with  a  glance  over  his  shoulder 
to  make  sure  that  Hartley  had  not  returned. 

Sharp  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "That  is  im- 
possible," he  laughed  good-naturedly,  and  he  con- 
tinued to  drink  and  smoke.  "She  has  a  meeting 
somewhere  to-night  with  the  enemy.  She  says 
afterward  she  will  take  a  nightcap  with  me.  In  the 
morning  I'll  tell  you — " 

"All?"  interrupted  Truesdale. 

"All — she  learns,"  corrected  Sharp. 

Two  bells  again  sounded,  and  Hartley  returned. 

"Oh,  it's  Hartley,"  said  Sharp,  pushing  a  glass 
toward  the  young  officer  as  he  approached  and  took 
a  scat.  "I  heard  you  were  ordered  away." 

"Some  one  pigeonholed  the  order,"  replied  Hart- 
ley, scarcely  conscious  of  his  words.  He  was  re-liv- 
ing the  events  he  had  seen  in  the  mansion  of  the 
Southern  Queen.  Never  had  he  thought  as  he  was 
thinking  now,  never  had  his  wits  been  put  to  such  a 
test.  How  could  he  deliver  Carima's  people?  Was 
there  no  way  for  him  to  prove  himself  worthy  of  a 
great  cause  and  a  greater  woman? 

"  Fight  your  battles  in  Washington,  General.  It  is 
more  exciting  and  less  dangerous,"  drawled  Sharp. 

"  Danger!"  the  officer  laughed  hoarsely. 


BEHIND  THE  SCENES  153 

"Or,  still  better,  make  love  to  the  Secretary's  wife," 
observed  Truesdale  with  a  wink. 

"I  shall — when  you  are  Secretary,  Senator," 
answered  Hartley,  recalling  himself  with  an  effort. 

"I'd  order  you  to  the  coast,"  cried  Truesdale. 

"Mrs.  Truesdale  might  countermand  the  order," 
replied  Hartley  so  quickly  that  they  all  laughed,  but 
the  speaker  arose  nervously  and  again  left  the  room. 

Two  bells  sounded,  and  Congressman  Browne 
followed  by  Senator  Tannihill,  was  admitted.  The 
watchful  Jones  re-filled  the  glasses,  and  then  retired 
from  view. 

"Ah,  here  you  are,"  cried  Tannihill.  "I  have 
news  for  you." 

"Boy  or  girl?"  Truesdale  asked  merrily. 

"Worse!"  said  Tannihill. 

"Twins?"  cried  Sharp  with  horrified  vehemence. 

"The  Secretary  is  below  with  his  friends!"  an- 
nounced the  newly  arrived  Senator. 

A  rocket  had  fallen  into  their  midst.  Truesdale 
rose  excitedly. 

"The  devil!"  he  exclaimed.  "I  thought  he  never 
came  here." 

"They  are  settling  things  about  the  round  table," 
continued  Tannihill  nervously. 

"We'll  settle  him!"  muttered  Truesdale. 

"Senator,  his  post  mortem  is  agreed  upon,"  drawled 
Browne.  "Have  a  cigarette,  Sharp?" 

"No,  thank  you,  I  only  chew  and  drink,"  replied 
Sharp  impatiently. 

"Then  have  a  glass  of  water?"  suggested  Tannihill. 

"Thank  you,  I  had  one  the  other  day,"  retorted 
Sharp  sarcastically. 


154       THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

Tannihill  laughed,  and  called  to  Jones  to  bring 
more  whiskey.  As  the  servant  again  filled  the 
glasses,  he  held  the  seltzer  above  TannihilPs  glass; 
but  was  stopped  by  an  exclamation  of  horror: 

"  Don't  do  that,  man !  Don't  pollute  God's  draught 
of  joy!" 

"Thought  you  had  sworn  off,  Tannihill?"  laughed 
Sharp. 

Tannihill  raised  his  glass  only  by  way  of  reply,  and, 
regarding  it  very  lovingly,  remarked  with  extreme 
tenderness  in  voice  and  eyes: 

"  Indeed,  indeed,  Abstinence  oft  before 
I  swore — but  was  I  sober  when  I  swore? 
And  then  and  then  came  Jones  with  Rye-in-hand 
My  thread-bare  Penitence  apieces  tore." 

He  drained  the  beverage  to  the  last  drop  amid 
hearty  applause  from  his  friends. 

" I  am  a  philosopher,  too,"  cried  Sharp.  "Another 
inspiration!  Here,  Jones!" 

He  raised  his  empty  glass  and,  looking  sorrowfully 
into  it,  said: 

"  Indeed  the  Idols  I  have  loved  so  long 
Have  done  my  credit  in  this  world  much  wrong. 
So  I'll  drown  my  glory  in  a  blood-red  cup, 
And  sell  my  party  secrets  for  a  song  !  " 

"Hurrah!"  cried  Tannihill.  "Who  says  that 
politics  and  poetry  mix  not  well?  But  come,  gentle- 
men, we  have  a  committee  meeting  to-night."  He 
drew  a  pack  of  cards  from  his  coat  pocket. 

Sharp  sprang  up. 

"All  right,  Senator,  I  never  shirk  public  duty. 
Jones,  bring  us  a  fresh  pack.  I  don't  like  the  color 
of  Mr.  TannihilFs  cards." 


BEHIND  THE  SCENES  155 

"Yes,  sah,"  answered  the  ubiquitous  Jones,  moving 
quickly  to  the  sideboard  and  returning  with  a  new 
pack. 

"Come  on,  Truesdale,"  called  Sharp. 

The  Senator  arose  unsteadily. 

"  Good,  gentlemen,  but  one  more  drink,  and  I  will 
give  you  Linda's  new  toast." 

The  bottle  made  its  round,  and  the  glasses  were 
clinked  over  the  mahogany. 

At  that  moment  the  door  opened,  and,  to  the 
astonishment  of  all,  a  woman  was  politely  ushered 
in  by  Brudder  Jones. 

"  Dis  way,  lady,"  observed  the  servant  respectfully. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN 

The  lady  whose  entrance  had  caused  such  havoc 
among  the  hilarious  group  of  men  was  robed  in  trail- 
ing black  lace,  over  which  was  thrown  a  manteau  of 
black  which  concealed  every  line  of  her  figure.  A 
heavy  veil,  also  of  lace,  had  been  draped  in  artistic 
abundance  about  her  hat  and  face,  and  thrown 
carelessly  over  one  shoulder,  making  the  wearer's 
identity  impossible  of  recognition.  She  moved  grace- 
fully across  the  room  to  a  far  table,  where  Jones  held 
a  chair  in  readiness  for  her. 

The  men  had  ceased  talking  at  her  entrance;  but 
now  Sharp  broke  the  silence. 

"Discords  evidently  have  charms  for  women," 
he  said. 

Truesdale,  however,  eyed  the  veiled  intruder 
doubtfully. 

"There  is  a  chance  for  you,  Sharp,"  he  observed 
without  removing  his  eyes. 

"Nothing  but  a  Senator  could  win  her,"  replied 
Tannihill,  while  Sharp  smiled  to  himself:  "It  must 
be  sweet  Linda.  Very  clever,  indeed!" 

Truesdale  called  Jones,  and  asked  in  a  whisper: 
"Who  is  she?" 

"Don'  know,  Senator,"  answered  the  waiter  with 
a  grin. 

156 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN  157 

"How  did  she  get  in  here,  then?"  questioned  the 
Senator  curiously. 

"  She  knows  de  signal,  sah,"  quickly  responded  the 
resourceful  Jones. 

"She's  dressed  to  kill,"  remarked  Sharp  dryly. 

"Her  sorrows?"  suggested  Tannihill. 

Truesdale,  with  an  effort  at  dignity,  lifted  his  glass 
and  proposed  unevenly: 

"Here's  to  the  girl  in  question!" 

"But  there  are  so  many  girls  in  question,"  cried 
Sharp. 

"Hush,"  commanded  Tannihill.  "Senator,  we 
listen,  and  we  drink  to  the  girls  in  question!" 

Truesdale  joined  good-naturedly  in  the  cry:  "To 
the  girls  in  question! " 

"And  our  poor  hearts!"  added  Sharp. 

Two  bells  again  sounded,  and  Hartley  was  ad- 
mitted. He  sank  into  a  seat,  neither  noticing  the 
new  occupant  of  the  room  nor  his  friends. 

"Hello,  stranger!"  cried  Tannihill.  "Here's  a 
chair  and  a  bottle!" 

He  raised  the  bottle  and  sang  a  eulogy  to  it — quite 
forgetting  the  fair  neighbor's  possible  objection  to  his 
voice,  and  the  waiting  card-room  as  well : 

"Lift  her  up  tenderly 

Take  her  with  care; 

Fashioned  so  slenderly 

Old-  but  so  fair  ! " 

The  men  chuckled  and  re-filled  their  glasses. 
"Here's  to  your  return  unto  us,  Hartley!"  smiled 
Tannihill. 
"Oh,  don't  flatter  yourselves,  my  friends,"  cried 


158       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Sharp  in  a  suppressed  tone.  "  'Twas  the  petticoat 
brought  him  here." 

Truesdale  drained  his  glass,  and  regarded  the  young 
officer  contemptuously. 

"When  you're  older,  Leon,"  he  said,  "you  will 
want  to  see  more  than  a  petticoat  or  less!  She  may 
be  old  and  wrinkled." 

Hartley  assented  to  any  and  all  remarks,  and 
drained  his  glass  without  realizing  a  word  spoken 
around  him. 

"But,  Senator,"  laughed  Sharp  with  a  sly  wink, 
"you  never  can  tell.  There  may  be  the  rosiest  lips, 
the  brightest  eyes,  the  most  enchanting  lines  under 
all  that  black." 

Truesdale  turned  upon  the  speaker  violently: 
"You  talk  as  though  you  knew  the  lady.  Have 
you  a  rendezvous  here,  sir?" 

Sharp  laughed  at  the  irate  Senator.  "No,"  he 
answered,  "but  I  wouldn't  be  likely  to  tell  you,  if 
I  had,"  he  added  saucily. 

Senator  Truesdale  eyed  the  bon  vivant  through  the 
medium  of  his  wine-glass.  "  I  can  see  through  a  veil, 
and  I  can  see  through  a  man,"  he  declared  meaningly, 
and  reached  for  the  bottle  again. 

"And  any  girl  can  see  through  you,"  rejoined 
Sharp  to  the  delight  of  Browne  and  Tannihill.  "  But 
what's  the  matter  with  Hartley?  We  might  as  well 
have  a  ghost  in  his  chair,"  he  complained,  slapping  the 
young  General  on  the  shoulder.  At  this  moment,  how- 
ever, every  one's  attention  was  attracted  elsewhere. 

The  Lady  of  Weeds  had  broken  silence.  She  was 
speaking  to  Jones,  but  they  could  not  hear  distinctly 
what  she  said. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN  159 

Jones  answered  clearly:  "Yes,  madam,  I  under- 
stands, madam." 

There  was  a  gloomy  tone  in  the  servant's  voice,  as 
he  took  the  order  which  arrested  the  attention  of 
the  men. 

"A  cup  of  weak  tea,  madam,"  he  repeated  wist- 
fully. "Anything  else,  madam?"  he  asked,  a  trifle 
more  hopeful;  but  the  lady  was  obdurate.  She 
shook  her  veiled  head  and  resumed  her  quiet  atti- 
tude. 

The  men  exchanged  glances.  Sharp  looked  at 
Hartley:  "She  may  find  out  why  the  General  is 
so  preoccupied,"  he  thought  inquisitively  and  rose, 
not  without  some  difficulty  and  a  repetition  of  the 
lady's  surprising  order:  "Weak  tea!  Jones,  where 
is  the  committee-room  to-night?"  he  inquired  by 
way  of  relief. 

"Dis  way,  Mister  Sharp,"  answered  the  urbane 
Jones,  holding  open  the  door  for  the  gentlemen  to 
pass  out  into  more  congenial  quarters. 

Tannihill  rose  slowly,  glanced  at  the  lady  in  black, 
then  back  to  Sharp,  with  a  significant  look. 

"No,  thank  you,"  he  remarked,  and  added,  with 
ill-concealed  disgust:  "Weak  tea!" 

He  followed  Sharp  with  an  unhappy  sidelong  glance 
at  his  comrades. 

Truesdale  also  was  slowly  realizing,  in  his  muddled 
state  of  mind,  the  to  him  equally  obnoxious  words. 
"Weak  tea!  Did  she  mean  it?"  he  murmured  with 
a  pitying  glance  over  his  shoulders  at  the  unknown  in- 
truder. 

He  shook  himself,  laughed  softly,  and  rose  to  his 
feet.  "I'll  leave  the  weaker  sex  to  your  tender 


160       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

mercy,  Leon.  I  know  what  a  gallant  you  are,  if  you 
don't  play  cards." 

His  sarcasm  was  quite  lost,  however,  upon  the 
young  officer.  Truesdale  walked  unsteadily  to  the 
door,  again  glanced  back  at  the  lady,  and,  muttering 
something  under  his  breath,  disappeared.  Jones 
returned,  looked  at  the  two  gloomy  figures  remain- 
ing, smiled  knowingly,  and  went  his  way. 

Hartley  remained  motionless  for  some  moments, 
apparently  lost  in  thought,  until,  suddenly  becoming 
conscious  of  a  presence,  he  rose  from  his  seat. 

The  mysterious  black  veil  had  been  thrown  back, 
and  Hartley  gazed  with  astonishment  upon  Donna 
Carima's  face.  He  stood  spellbound.  The  words  re- 
fused to  sound  between  his  dry  lips.  Donna  Carima 
came  forward,  speaking  excitedly. 

"General  Hartley  at  Cambertin's?"  she  asked 
haughtily. 

He  stood  speechless,  a  score  of  questions  striving 
for  utterance. 

"What  brings  you  here  in  this  guise?"  he  gasped. 

"My  dead  faith,  perhaps,"  she  replied. 

In  amazement  Hartley  leaned  toward  her,  and 
asked  pleadingly,  beseechingly:  "Why?  How  did 
you  come  here?" 

"With  my  horses,"  she  replied  flippantly. 

"Everyone  will  know  them!"  exclaimed  the  officer. 

"Not  every  one,"  Donna  Carima  smiled. 

"Where  are  they?"  he  asked  anxiously. 

"Around  the  corner  in  the  shadow,  where  all 
good  horses  stand  that  come  here,"  she  responded  with 
a  look  that  made  him  doubly  anxious  for  her  welfare. 
He  realized  the  full  seriousness  of  the  situation. 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN  161 

"My  influence  in  your  behalf  will  be  useless,  if 
you  are  seen  here  alone  with  me  at  this  hour,"  he 
cried,  with  sickening  fear. 

"Who  would  question  Donna  Carima?"  she  ob- 
served with  a  haughty  smile. 

Again  Hartley  saw  the  Queen  before  him,  and  it 
was  difficult  to  explain  to  her. 

"  There  are  those  here  to-night  who  would  delight 
in  using  this  against  you."  He  glanced  nervously 
toward  the  card-room  as  he  spoke. 

"Your  friends?"  she  queried  contemptuously. 

"Ah,  don't  speak  to  me  like  that,"  the  General 
cried  imploringly.  "Whatever  may  be  your  reason 
for  coming  here,  you  cannot  doubt  my  love  for  you; 
that  would  be  cruel — too  cruel." 

They  were  interrupted  by  voices,  outside  the  door. 

"I  will  go  in." 

It  was  Tannihill's  voice. 

"Private  room  jes'  now,  sah,"  was  heard  in  re- 
sponse in  the  obstructing  tones  of  Brudder  Jones. 

General  Hartley  almost  seized  Donna  Carima  in 
his  arms  in  his  mad  effort  to  protect  her. 

"For  God's  sake,  go,  if  you  have  any  regard  for 
yourself,  your  honor — for  me!" 

"For  you!"  she  laughed,  but  there  was  a  sob  in 
her  voice. 

"They  are  coming  in,"  cried  Hartley  in  conster- 
nation. He  pulled  back  the  rich  damask  which 
covered  the  window,  and  bade  her  screen  herself 
behind  it.  She  only  laughed  at  him,  for,  in  truth, 
she  did  not  understand  the  import  of  the  situation. 

"You  must  do  as  I  say  to-night.  I  beg  of  you," 
he  said  sternly. 


162       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

At  this  moment  John  Durmont  entered  by 
another  door,  but  stopped  unobserved,  as  he  saw 
and  comprehended  the  scene  before  him.  He  was 
concealed  from  view  by  the  branches  of  the  palms. 

"You  came  here  to  meet  a  woman,"  Donna  Carima 
said  quietly. 

Hartley  stepped  back  confounded. 

"  I  swear  by  all  that  is  holy,  I  did  not." 

"Men  swear  so  easily  by  all  that  is  holy,"  she 
observed,  and,  shrugging  her  shoulders  in  her  ex- 
pressive way,  she  added,  with  maddening  calmness, 
"I  have  nothing  to  conceal.  Hide  yourself,  if  you 
have." 

The  necessity  of  protecting  the  woman  he  loved 
from  herself  was  forced  upon  him,  and,  thinking  only 
of  her,  the  young  officer  sprang  behind  the  curtain. 

Secretary  and  Mrs.  Randolph  entered. 

The  statesman  and  his  worldly  wife  exclaimed  with 
astonishment : 

"Donna  Carima!" 

The  voice  of  the  one  had  a  thrill  of  triumph;  that 
of  the  other  held  a  note  of  dismay.  The  Secretary's 
wife  was  the  first  to  recover. 

"You  are  here  alone?"  asked  Mrs.  Randolph 
sweetly. 

"No,"  replied  Donna  Carima  simply. 

It  was  all  very  strange  to  her,  this  extraordinary 
questioning  and  abject  fear  of  comment. 

Mrs.  Randolph's  raised  eyebrows  insinuated  com- 
prehension. "Perhaps  you  await  a  friend?"  she 
suggested;  and  the  lady  assented.  Turning  to  her 
husband,  Mrs.  Randolph  continued :  "  We  had  bet- 
ter not  interrupt,  Mr.  Secretary." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN  163 

The  Secretary,  however,  stepped  close  to  Donna 
Carima  and  said : 

"I  received  your  note  of  warning.  I  cannot  be 
sufficiently  grateful  to  you;  but  may  I  ask  if  you 
intend  to  remain  here  alone?  It  does  not  seem  very 
wise." 

"But  she  is  not  alone,"  sneered  the  wife.  "Don't 
be  stupid,  my  dear;  when  a  lady  like  the  noble 
Donna  Carima  says  she  is  not  alone  that  suffices  to 
say  that  we  are  de  trop." 

The  Secretary  turned  again  to  the  girl  in  question 
standing  before  them,  so  pale,  so  proud,  so  beautiful 
that  her  magnificent  poise  was  a  rebuke,  felt  even  by 
Mrs.  Randolph. 

"  May  I  invite  you  to  join  our  party  in  the  crystal- 
room?"  he  asked,  expressing  his  solicitude  in  his 
kind  eyes. 

"Mr.  Randolph!"  interrupted  his  wife  angrily 
at  the  forced  detention,  "I  expect  to  meet — friends 
to-night." 

Donna  Carima  stood  still,  endeavoring  to  control 
the  hot  anger  which  swept  through  her  proud  South- 
ern blood.  It  was  the  first  insult  she  had  ever  re- 
ceived, and  it  cut  deeply  into  her  sensitive  nature. 
Still  she  controlled  herself.  The  Secretary's  wife 
moved  a  few  steps  away,  but  turned  back  and 
observed  pointedly  to  her  husband: 

"  I  believe  General  Hartley  is  here  to-night.  If  you 
wish  to  remain  with  the  lady,  I  will  inquire  for  him. 
He  may  bear  rne  company." 

This  suggestion  touched  the  limit  of  Donna  Carima's 
patience.  The  name  that  had  been  crashing  through 
her  brain  for  so  many  hours  struck  upon  her  ears 


164        THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

like  a  blow,  when  spoken  by  the  woman  against  whom 
Senator  Trucsdale  had  raised  her  suspicion.  Was 
Hartley  worthy  of  her  trust?  She  would  know,  and 
sprang  to  the  curtain  which  concealed  the  officer. 
Her  hand  was  raised  toward  the  draperies  to  tear 
them  apart;  but  as  she  touched  the  brocade  a  cool 
firm  hand  covered  her  own  and  withheld  it.  A  man 
had  stepped  from  the  shadow  of  the  doorway,  and 
stood  beside  her.  A  voice  was  speaking  very  quietly. 
It  was  the  voice  of  the  Secretary's  young  secretary, 
and  he  was  saying : 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  be  Donna  Carima's  escort  to- 
night." 

"Durmont!"  exclaimed  the  Secretary  in  astonish- 
ment. 

"The  unimpeachable,"  suggested  Mrs.  Randolph 
exultantly. 

It  was  all  too  deep  for  the  War  Secretary.  He 
bowed,  presented  his  arm  to  his  wife,  and  with  bent 
head  walked  from  the  room. 

The  doors  swung  together. 

Donna  Carima  stood  speechless.  To  her  the  act 
was  audacious.  She  turned  upon  her  unexpected 
champion. 

"Why  did  you  do  this?"  she  demanded. 

"Because — that  is  all,  just  because;  a  woman's 
answer  and  a  man's  impulse,  perhaps,"  he  replied 
humbly. 

She  drew  away  and  regarded  him  intently.  She 
was  endeavoring  to  perceive  his  motive. 

"Yes,"  he  continued,  as  he  observed  the  embarrass- 
ment in  her  face.  "  Some  Americans  give  their  love 
and  make  no  bargains." 


THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  QUEEN  165 

Suddenly  she  understood  his  meaning  and  much 
more. 

"I  shall  be  near,"  he  said  quietly.  "Send  Jones  for 
me  if  you  need  me.  I  am  only  too  proud  to  have 
been  of  service  to  Your  Majesty." 

He  bowed  low  and  passed  through  the  door  whence 
he  had  come.  It  fastened  with  a  click. 

Donna  Carima  stood  still  for  an  instant,  then  tore 
back  the  curtain  which  concealed  Leon  Hartley. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

KISMET 

"That  was  the  hardest  fight  of  my  life!"  Hartley 
gasped,  as  he  fell  prostrate  upon  a  sofa. 

He  turned  to  Donna  Carima,  however,  with  a  cry 
of  agony.  "In  God's  name,  tell  me  of  what  do  you 
suspect  me?  You  are  not  yourself  to-nignt.  You 
are  cruel  and  cold  and  reckless;  and  yet  I  never 
loved  you  so  much,  although  I  thought  I  had  already 
given  you  the  deepest  love  of  my  soul.  Don't  stare 
at  me  like  that.  You're  part  of  my  life.  My  lips 
have  touched  yours.  Our  kiss  was  love  itself!  It 
is  registered  in  Heaven,  and  will  bind  us  together — 
out  into  eternity!" 

He  sprang  up  and  came  very  near  to  her. 

"How  beautiful!  How  magical  you  are!"  he  cried, 
as  she  raised  her  eyes,  and  they  stood  again  en- 
tranced by  the  love  which  was  crying  for  expression 
in  the  heart  of  each. 

"When  I  die  it  shall  be  with  your  kiss  upon  my 
lips,"  he  went  on.  "Do  not  fear  me,"  he  added 
quickly,  as  she  drew  away.  "I  only  want  you  to 
know,  whether  you  think  of  me  to-morrow  or  in 
years  to  come,  that  you  will  always  own  my  thoughts 
and  heart.  You  are  a  great  and  a  beautiful  woman, 
with  a  soul  so  pure  it  has  changed  my  entire  concep- 
tion of  existence.  Still  life  is  strange  and  difficult. 

166 


KISMET  167 

We  feel  true  love  in  our  souls;  but  we  are  conscious 
of  it  through  our  thoughts  only,  for  the  one  means 
of  expression  is  through  the  physical.  And  what 
shall  we  ever  realize  so  beautiful  as  that  wonderful 
moment  when  our  lips  first  met!" 

She  held  uo  her  hand  in  protest,  and  he  stopped 
speaking. 

For  an  instant  he  had  swayed  her  by  his  sudden 
attack,  and  the  thrill  of  his  resonant  voice  sent 
tingling  response  through  every  nerve  of  her  sensitive 
body ;  but  the  moment  passed,  and  she  remembered 
her  mission. 

"No,  no.  Ours  was  the  ecstasy  of  superciviliza- 
tion,"  she  answered,  with  the  analysis  of  a  masculine 
brain.  "Even  the  perfection  of  the  human  should 
be  but  one  phase  of  this  life,  Leon." 

She  spoke  very  low,  and  with  evident  effort  at  self- 
control.  Suddenly  she  threw  back  her  head  and 
burst  forth,  as  some  tortured  prisoner  might: 

"I  want  to  live  above  all  passion;  to  live  a  life 
that  is  strong  and  grand  and  free!" 

Hartley  stepped  toward  her  and  took  her  hands 
firmly  in  both  of  his. 

"I  know — I  know,"  he  said.  "The  blood  of  your 
ancestral  kings  has  been  roused  in  your  veins,  and 
you  sacrifice  love  to  duty!" 

A  hopeless  sob  choked  his  voice,  but  he  conquered 
it  and  continued:  "I  hope  it  is  right,  though  I  only 
know  that  you  answer  all  the  longings  of  my  being." 
Then  with  understanding  he  cried  out  in  despairing 
adoration :  "  It  is  because  you  are  truly  pure  that  you 
are  so  glorious !  Ah,  my  Queen,  my  love ! " 

He  held  her  eyes  again,  enchanted  for  the  instant 


168       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

by  the  passion  in  his  own.  Her  face  had  become  all 
softness  and  light,  but  he  noticed  the  trembling  lips, 
and  quickly  released  her  hands. 

"Only  know,  Carima,  my  beautiful  heart,"  he 
breathed  again,  "that  love  has  grown  to  be  my 
breath,  my  food,  my  life!  You  alone  hold  the  cup 
from  which  my  sustenance  springs.  Remember,  for 
all  time  I  am  waiting — always  waiting!" 

With  sudden  impulse  she  wound  her  arms  tremu- 
lously about  his  neck  and  clung  desperately  to  him, 
breathing  her  love  upon  his  ear,  with  such  cruel 
suffering,  it  nearly  broke  his  heart. 

"I  understand  all,  all,  Carima,"  he  said  in  a 
choked  voice.  "I  cannot  torture  you  like  this." 

He  kissed  the  tears  from  her  cheeks  and  tenderly 
put  her  from  him. 

"I  shall  live  worthy  of  your  love,"  he  murmured; 
"the  touch  of  another's  lips  shall  never  press  mine, 
and  when — ' 

The  door  opened.  Mrs.  Randolph  had  returned 
alone  and  stood  listening,  before  either  became 
conscious  of  her  presence.  Hartley's  eyes  followed 
those  of  Carima,  and  fell  upon  the  Secretary's 
wife. 

He  turned  stiffly  and  questioned  the  intruder  with 
ill-concealed  scorn: 

"  Have  you  forgotten  something,  Mrs.  Randolph?  " 

"  I  have  discovered  that  which  I  returned  in  search 
of,"  she  replied  with  a  little  laugh.  Instantly 
Donna  Carima  recovered  her  poise,  but  they  were 
tearful  sad  eyes  which  answered  the  sneering  re- 
mark. 

An  instant  later  Mrs.  Randolph  started  in  alarm, 


KISMET  169 

as  she  heard  her  husband's  voice  outside,  interro- 
gating Jones  as  to  his  wife's  whereabouts. 

Donna  Carima  realized  her  apprehension  and 
graciously  moved  toward  the  further  room. 

"Come,  Mrs.  Randolph,"  she  said  kindly,  "I  saw 
some  one  pass  out  that  way." 

The  Secretary's  wife  followed,  evidently  much 
agitated.  She  brusquely  pushed  past  Donna  Carima, 
as  they  approached  the  door,  hurriedly  opened  it, 
and,  as  quickly,  closed  it  behind  her.  Donna 
Carima  tried  to  follow.  The  knob  turned  under  her 
hand,  but  the  door  was  locked  from  the  outer  side. 
She  started  back  aghast. 

"Oh,  how  cruel!" 

She  smiled  a  little  bitterly,  however,  and  stood 
still  to  listen.  Silence  now  reigned  in  the  other 
room;  evidently  the  Secretary  had  not  entered. 
Carima  turned  to  rejoin  Hartley,  when  the  middle 
door  was  thrown  open,  and  a  man  stepped  into  the 
room. 

It  was  Nicholas  Worthington. 

Donna  Carima  drew  back  involuntarily  into  the 
shadow  of  the  palms. 

Nick  wore  a  long  ulster  and  a  soft  felt  hat,  which 
reminded  the  Queen  in  hiding  that  he  was  to  have 
left  for  California  that  very  day.  He  entered 
jauntily  in  his  debonair  fashion. 

"Hello,  Hartley!"  he  cried  with  boyish  fervor. 

The  General  started,  and  gazed  blankly  at  the  in- 
opportune visitor. 

"Oh,  it's  you,  Nick;  how  did  you  get  here?"  he 
said,  seating  himself  wearily;  well  pleased,  however, 
that  Donna  Carima  had  in  this  instance  avoided  a 


iyo       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

meeting.  "I  thought  you  were  on  your  way  to  the 
coast?" 

"So  I  should  be,"  answered  Nick,  "but  I  decided 
to  wait  over  a  day  or  so.  I  knew  I  could  not  sleep, 
and  so  came  here  to  pass  the  time."  He  glanced 
anxiously  about,  as  though  searching  for  some  one. 

"  There  are  other  men  in  the  same  condition,  Nick. 
Why  can't  you  sleep?"  asked  the  General,  with  an 
affected  interest. 

"  I  may  as  well  tell  you,  Hartley,  as  to  eat  out  my 
heart  alone.  I  cannot  leave  town  while  Carima 
Astrados  remains  here."  There  was  a  curious  gleam 
in  the  young  man's  eyes. 

"Why  should  you  wish  to  see  her?"  questioned  the 
officer,  leaning  forward  this  time  with  genuine 
interest. 

"I  should  think  you  could  guess,"  answered  Nick 
excitedly.  "Hartley,  do  you  realize  what  a  danger- 
ous woman  she  is?"  The  note  of  terror  in  Nick's 
voice  caused  Hartley  to  regard  him  keenly. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  how  blind  you  all  seem  to  be!  Hartley,  it  is 
the  same  old  story  of  Eve,  of  Helen,  of  Cleopatra!  A 
beautiful  woman  always  wins,  whether  her  desires 
be  a  husband  or  a  country;  and  always  men  wreck 
their  lives  to  satisfy  her  whim.  For  whatever  it 
may  be,  ambition,  duty — for  good  or  for  bad — with 
a  woman  it  is  just  a  whim! " 

"  Have  you  been  invited  to  speak  at  a  woman's 
guild?"  inquired  Hartley  with  sarcasm;  "or  is  this 
tirade  upon  the  sex  for  my  edification?" 

Nicholas  flashed  him  an  angry  glance  in  reply. 

"I  know,"  he  said,  "that  you  all  think  I  am  not 


KISMET  171 

fitted  for  politics,  but  just  listen  to  me  for  a  moment, 
and  I  will  tell  you  some  things  you  may  not  know. 
To  begin  with,  Donna  Carima  Astrados  is  the  most 
dangerous  woman  I  have  ever  met.  She  dropped 
here  from  the  gods  know  where,  put  herself  up  as  a 
Queen,  and  has  become  a  power.  She  is  a  Circe  of 
ambition  to  reign  as  Queen  in  that  queer  island  of 
hers,  and  she  will  win  some  way;  but  in  the  winning 
she  shall  not  drag  down  my  old  grandfather.  He 
has  worked  too  long  and  too  faithfully  to  have  his 
integrity  questioned.  Oh,  it  is  a  villainous  plot!" 

Nicholas  had  risen  in  the  excitement  of  his  accusa- 
tion and  stood  to  his  full  height,  his  young  face  flush- 
ing and  his  eyes  flashing  dangerous  fire. 

Hartley  looked  at  him,  while  a  sneer  gathered 
around  his  mouth. 

"  What  reason  have  you  for  this  absurd  statement?" 
he  asked  dryly. 

Nicholas  started  forward  in  a  fury  of  passion. 

"Absurd!  Absurd  is  it  for  this  woman  to  use  her 
wiles  upon  Truesdale,  Tannihill,  and  the  rest  of  my 
grandfather's  enemies,  and  induce  them  to  start  a 
Congressional  inquiry,  based  upon  fraud,  against 
him  in  his  old  age?  Do  you  think  he  can  live  through 
it?  Do  you  think  his  suffering,  his  disgrace  is  ab- 
surd? Do  you?" 

He  raised  his  hand  and  smote  the  table  an  awful 
blow  in  his  excitement.  "I  swear,  I'll  shoot  them 
down  like  dogs  first,"  he  cried  wildly.  "Now  look 
here,  I  have  explained  all  this  to  Durmont,  but  he 
will  not  believe  it  because  this  woman  has  dropped 
her  eyes  and  smiled  her  sweetest  upon  him,  and  he 
has  fallen  to  her  like  a  fool." 


172       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Durmont  loves  her?"  interrupted  Hartley,  seiz- 
ing Nick's  arm  firmly  to  hold  his  attention. 

Nick  laughed  scornfully.  "Have  you  not  noticed? 
He  has  worn  his  heart  upon  his  sleeve  for  all  the 
daws  to  peck  at." 

"Durmont  loves  her,"  repeated  Hartley,  remem- 
bering the  scene  of  the  curtain. 

"Not  only  he,  but  grandfather  himself,  believes  in 
her.  It  is  his  wife's  influence  only  that  withholds 
his  endorsement.  This  woman  has  fooled  them  all 
— all  but  me!"  He  moved  nearer  to  Hartley,  with 
a  sudden  sardonic  gleam  in  his  eyes.  "I  confess," 
he  said  with  a  laugh,  "  I,  too,  was  fooled  at  first.  She 
had  a  tenderness  toward  me." 

His  face  softened  perceptibly,  then  he  ground  his 
teeth  in  angry  muttcrings :  "No  doubt,  she  has  love 
for  all  mankind,  and  for  womankind  as  well.  Ellice 
Courtney  is  hypnotized  by  her,  and  will  listen  to 
naught  against  her.  Oh!  I  have  stood  this  as  long 
as  I  can;  but  now — now  is  time  for  action  and, 
Hartley,  you  are  the  man  to  doit — it  is  your  duty!" 

"Do  what?"  asked  the  General;  but  before 
Nicholas  could  answer,  he  placed  his  hands  upon  the 
younger  man's  shoulders  and  turned  his  face  toward 
the  blazing  lights.  "Are  you  intoxicated,  Nick?" 
he  asked  sternly.  Nicholas  threw  off  his  hands. 

"No,"  he  shouted,  "except  with  hate — with  re- 
venge upon  these  weak  men."  He  turned  suddenly 
upon  Hartley.  "You  are  an  officer,  and  you  will 
do  your  duty?"  he  demanded. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  General. 

"Very  well,  Carima  Astrados  is  in  this  restaurant 
to-night.  She  is  here  to  meet  Truesdale  and  his 


KISMET  173 

crowd,  and  they  arc  to  begin  the  inquiry  against  my 
grandfather  to-night.  That  is  why  I  did  not  go 
West.  She  must  be  trapped  here  and  denounced 
openly.  Show  her  up!  Show  how  she  plays  both 
sides!  Show  that  she  is  an  adventuress,  and  send  her 
back  to — hell,  where  she  came  from!" 

He  finished  his  peroration  in  a  commanding  tone, 
and  stood  waiting  Hartley's  acquiescence. 

"And  am  I  to  execute  this  noble  act?"  Hartley 
asked,  with  a  suggestion  of  humor.  "Nick,  my 
friend,  we  would  only  make  fools  of  ourselves.  Let 
us  go  home,  and  to-morrow  you  will  see  the  absurdity 
of  your  accusation." 

Nick  sprang  forward  in  protest. 

"You  refuse  to  save  my  grandfather?"  he  gasped. 
"Don't  talk  to  me  of  to-morrow;  to-night  is  the 
time  to  act.  We  must  act  now!" 

He  spoke  impressively,  with  the  sudden  force  of 
conviction. 

Hartley  shook  his  head.  "No,  Nick,  you  cannot 
bring  disgrace  upon  an  innocent  woman  to  satisfy 
a  dream.  Believe  me,  there  can  be  no  truth  in  your 
statement;  but  if  there  is  a  question  of  a  Congress- 
ional inquiry  against  the  Secretary,  I  will  fight  it  to 
the  death.  Leave  it  to  me.  I  will  join  the  card- 
players  and  see  what  I  can  glean." 

"  No,  no,  I  see  through  you  now.  You,  too,  love 
her!  Oh,  the  blindness,  the  weakness  of  men!" 
Nick  cried.  "Very  well,  I  will  find  her  and  expose 
her  myself." 

Hartley  was  nonplussed.  He  wondered  desper- 
ately if  Donna  Carima  had  made  her  way  from  the 
restaurant?  He  felt  she  had  not,  for  she  had  come 


174       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

to  learn  much,  and  would  remain  until  she  was 
satisfied.  He  dared  not  allow  Nick's  insane  idea  to 
be  carried  out.  If  he  should  find  her  there,  God  only 
knew  what  the  outcome  would  be.  At  any  cost, 
he  must  save  her. 

"Nicholas,"  he  said  sternly,  "you  will  do  nothing 
of  the  sort.  Donna  Carima  Astrados  is  innocent  of 
the  charge;  and  you  shall  not  ruin  her  by  such  an 
accusation." 

The  two  men  stood  glaring  at  one  another,  deter- 
mination absolute  written  on  each  face. 

"Shall  not?"  sneered  Nicholas,  "and  who  will 
prevent  me?" 

"I  will,"  answered  Hartley  firmly. 

"You,  you?  What  do  you  mean?"  demanded 
Nick. 

"I  mean  that  I  can  and  will  prevent  you  from 
injuring  this  lady  and  making  a  fool  of  yourself. 
Nick,  you  are  not  sane  upon  the  subject;  you  have 
worked  yourself  into  a  frenzy  and,  believe  me,  you 
will  do  the  Secretary  more  harm  than  good  in  the 
state  you  are  in.  Will  you  not  listen  to  reason?" 

"No,"  shouted  Nicholas;  "no,  this  woman  came 
into  my  home,  which  was  all  peace  and  happiness. 
Her  treaty  has  caused  a  difference  between  my  poor 
grandfather  and  his  wife.  She  has  changed  Ellice 
Courtney,  and  her  very  name  has  raised  a  barrier 
between  Ellice  and  me." 

"Nick,"  Hartley  suggested  kindly,  "did  you  not 
neglect  Ellice  a  little  when  Donna  Carima  first  came?  " 

"No,"  Nick  declared  hotly,  "never!  When  I  first 
saw  Carima  Astrados  she  fascinated  me,  as  with  an 
evil  charm.  I  could  not  rid  myself  of  the  vision  of 


KISMET  175 

her  face,  as  though  I  had  seen  it  before,  perhaps  in 
another  life.  I  saw  it  in  everything  I  looked  at,  and 
at  night  I  dreamed  terrible  dreams,  always  with  her 
face  in  them.  Oh!  she  has  wrecked  my  life,  and  now 
my  poor  grandfather's  honor  rests  in  her  hands.  I 
will  expose  her  vile  plot!" 

Hartley  sprang  before  the  infuriated  youth,  as  he 
moved  toward  the  door. 

"Stop!"  he  commanded  in  full  voice  of  authority, 
and  Nicholas  stopped  involuntarily. 

"Will  nothing  change  your  determination  to  do 
this  insane  act?"  Hartley  questioned,  a  frown  dark- 
ening his  brow,  as  though  in  warning  to  the  younger 
man. 

"Nothing,"  answered  Nick;  "let  me  pass." 

"Wait!"  again  commanded  the  General.  "Then 
you  compel  me  to  use  the  one  weapon  in  my  power. 
I  hold  a  secret  I  had  hoped  to  carry  to  the  grave 
with  me,  but — " 

"General  Hartley,"  interrupted  Nick  savagely, 
"  if  you  think  argument  can  change  me,  spare  yourself. 
My  will  is  determined." 

"It  is  not  your  will,  nor  hers,  nor  mine,"  Hartley 
said  sadly.  "It  is  the  law  of  God!  The  sin  of  years 
— trie  retribution  of  life!" 

A  cry  came  from  the  shadow  of  the  palm ;  but  the 
excited  men  did  not  hear  it. 

"Oh,  don't  force  me  to  say  more,"  Leon  Hartley 
cried  with  sudden  emotion,  causing  the  veins  to 
stand  out  upon  his  brow.  "  It  is  a  confidence,  Nick," 
he  continued.  "You  are  forcing  me  to  break  faith 
with  my  own  heart!  Nicholas,  my  friend,  don't  do 
this  thing— I  beg  of  you!" 


176       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Nicholas  struck  aside  the  proffered  hand. 

"I  see  you,  too,  love  her!"  he  answered  furiously. 
"Tell  me  if  there  is  any  reason,  any  sense  in  your 
mad  assertion,  or  I  will  choke  the  lying  words  in 
your  throat!" 

With  a  stride,  he  fastened  the  spring  of  the  door 
and  the  officer  and  the  War  Secretary's  grandson 
stood,  as  they  thought,  alone.  Hartley  remained 
silent,  clutching  the  back  of  a  chair,  his  face  flushed 
and  dark  from  emotion. 

"Ah,  I  see,"  continued  Nicholas,  watching  him 
keenly,  "  these  are  all  lies  your  jealous  soul  has  created 
to  protect  her,  but  you  can't  do  it.  I  will  tell  the 
world  of  her  villainous  plot  against  a  great  good 
man." 

The  crisis  was  reached. 

Leon  Hartley  no  longer  struggled  to  control  him- 
self. His  one  thought  was  to  prevent  this  over- 
wrought boy  from  injuring  the  woman  he  loved  so 
dearly. 

"  The  law  of  man  and  the  law  of  God  will  prevent 
it,"  he  cried.  "Carima  Astrados  is  your  own  sister! 
Follow  her  life-story  and  follow  your  own,  as  I  have 
done!  Follow  it  link  by  link!  They  are  the  same; 
and  if  you  still  do  not  believe  me,  look  into  the 
diamond  locket  she  wears.  There  you  will  see  your 
picture,  with  her  own  and  your  mother's  face!" 

Nicholas  drew  back  in  horror,  and  gradually 
gathered  the  voice  and  strength  of  madness. 

"My  sister!"  he  cried.  "It  is  not  true,  not  true! 
It  is  a  lie — a  cruel  lie!" 

As  the  words  passed  his  lips  he  realized  their  mean- 
ing, and,  springing  toward  his  opponent,  he  struck 


KISMET  177 

him  furiously  in  the  face.  Without  uttering  a 
sound,  Hartley  fell  heavily  backward  to  the  floor, 
striking  his  head  violently  on  the  projecting  edge 
of  the  heavy  mahogany  table.  The  jarred  glasses 
tinkled  loudly  as  in  protest.  With  reaction  from 
the  fury  that  had  overwhelmed  him,  Nicholas  felt 
for  the  General's  heart. 

"He  is  dead — I  have  killed  him!"  he  gasped 
hoarsely. 

The  chorus  of  a  love-ditty  sounded  from  the  card- 
players,  across  the  hall. 

Nick's  first  thought  was  that  of  self-preservation. 
Hastily  turning  off  the  electric  switch,  he  felt  in  the 
darkness  for  the  door,  leading  to  the  private  stairway. 

"No  one  has  seen  me  here,"  he  thought.  "No 
one  even  knows  I  am  still  in  town." 

A  sound  suddenly  stopped  him.  It  was  a  voice. 
He  could  hear  the  swish  of  skirts  in  the  darkness. 
His  heart  grew  cold. 

"Leon,  Leon!"  a  woman's  voice  called  in  an 
agonized  whisper.  The  next  moment  he  felt  soft 
arms  around  him.  "I  must  save  you!  I  must  save 
you,  Leon!"  she  cried  again.  "You  must  get  away. 
My  carriage  is  in  the  shadow  of  the  trees  by  the 
park.  Go!"  she  pleaded,  pushing  him  toward  the 
door. 

He  turned  back,  then  obeyed. 

For  a  moment  Donna  Carima  hesitated,  but  for  a 
moment  only.  She  followed  him  through  the  door- 
way. 

The  love-song  floated  gayly  after  them,  mingled 
with  merry  laughter. 

To  the  feverish  brains  of  the  two,  creeping  stealth- 


178       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

ily  down  the  dimly  lighted  steps,  every  creak  of  the 
old  stairs  seemed  to  cry  aloud  of  the  crime  that  had 
been  committed.  But  at  last  they  stepped  out  into 
the  radiance  of  a  moonlit  night,  and,  for  the  time 
at  least,  were  free! 

Then  Donna  Carima  Astrados  realized  that  it  was 
her  brother,  Nicholas  Worthington,  who  had  struck 
the  blow. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  AND  SIP  RICH  WINES  ! 

Thomas  Jefferson,  the  grand  mogul  of  his  social 
realm,  was  omnipotent,  as  he  doled  out  his  orders  to 
the  under-servants  for  the  afternoon  and  evening's 
programme. 

With  self-congratulation,  he  gazed  upon  the 
brilliant  array  of  decorations  for  the  coming  Masked 
Ball  which  was  being  given  to  end  the  season 
by  Mrs.  Secretary  Randolph.  The  house  appeared 
gloriously  gay,  and  not  a  suggestion  of  the  anxious 
hearts  of  the  occupants  was  apparent  in  the  perfect 
equipment  for  the  coming  festival. 

Money  had  not  been  spared  in  the  decorations. 
Alcoves  and  bowers  of  enticing  beauty  had  been 
created,  and  unexpected  nooks  of  lovely  plants  and 
flowers  introduced  for  lovers,  while  large  palms,  glit- 
tering with  wreaths  of  electric  bulbs  in  flower  forms, 
and  bushes  of  rare  roses,  hid  the  musicians  from 
view. 

At  the  foot  of  the  grand  staircase  was  a  Turkish 
room,  lighted  with  a  single  red  globe,  and  at  one  end 
stood  a  punch  bowl,  rilled  continuously  by  the  art 
of  the  caterers  below.  The  only  rooms  left  untouched 
by  the  hand  of  the  decorator  were  the  library  of  the 
Secretary  and  the  study  of  his  grandson. 

The  library  had  been  vacant  all  the  morning,  and 
179 


180       THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

Thomas  had  taken  advantage  of  good  fortune  and 
stolen  a  cat-nap  between  times  on  the  luxurious 
sofa.  He  arose,  yawned,  and  started  for  the  kitchen 
when,  to  his  astonishment,  he  collided  with  James 
Graham. 

"Oh,  'deed  I  does  beg  pardon,  Mister  Jefferson," 
apologized  the  intruder,  "  but  is  yo'  willin'  to  receive 
a  deputation  to-day,  Mister  Jefferson?" 

Thomas  immediately  regained  his  superb  dignity 
and  self-control,  for  he  knew  that  it  was  bad  form 
ever  to  show  surprise,  or  to  evince  unusual  interest. 

"What  is  de  deputation?"  he  demanded  with  im- 
portance. 

"  It  consists  ob  me  an'  Mis'  Smith,  Mister  Jefferson," 
answered  James  smiling  hopefully. 

Thomas  looked  steadily  through  the  smile  and 
commented,  coldly: 

"I's  not  'customed  ter  receive  delegations  in  de 
Secretary's  departments,  Mister  Graham.  I  has  my 
own  place  ob  business,  sah." 

The  smile  upon  Graham's  face  vanished,  and  he 
hastened  to  explain. 

"We  done  call  at  yo'  office  in  de  kitchen,  Mister 
Jefferson,"  he  stammered  breathlessly;  "but  de  cook 
say,  bein'  as  I  was  a  ol'  frien',  I  might  come  up." 

Thomas  frowned  at  the  explanation  and  grunted : 

"De  cook  am  circumventin'  her  authority,  sah," 
but  his  face  smoothed  into  pleasantness,  as  he  ob- 
served a  tall,  seductive-looking  mulatto  woman  ap- 
pear in  the  doorway. 

"Hem!"  he  added,  softening  under  the  modest 
beam  of  the  lady's  eyes.  "Is  dat  Mis'  Smith?" 

James  turned  to  his  feminine  charge,  who  hesitated 


WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  181 

timidly  under  the  uncertain  smile  of  the  great  Thomas 
Jefferson. 

"Yes,  sah,"  said  James  anxiously,  "dat's  Mis' 
Smith." 

After  a  full  moment's  awful  consideration,  Thomas 
sank  back  in  the  Secretary's  chair,  and  declared 
pompously,  his  eyes  roving  approvingly  upon  the  lady : 

"I'll  receive  de  deputation  heah,  sah." 

Miss  Smith  took  heart  and  coyly  entered. 

A  ring  at  the  bell  echoed  through  the  room.  It 
made  no  impression  upon  Thomas,  however. 

"Thank  yo',  Mister  Jefferson,"  replied  Miss  Smith 
demurely,  with  lowered  eyes. 

Thomas  smiled  upon  her  now  with  more  abundant 
politeness. 

"Is  yo'  de  deputation,  madam?"  he  queried. 

Again  Miss  Smith  dropped  her  round  eyes. 

"  I  is  part  ob  it,  Mister  Jefferson.  Mister  Graham 
am  de  res',"  she  answered  modestly. 

Thomas  ignored  the  "rest  of  the  deputation" 
utterly,  and  beamed  upon  the  dusky  applicant  for 
his  favor  only. 

"Permit  me  tcr  say,"  he  observed,  "dat  I  likes  yo' 
looks,  Mis'  Smith.  May  I  ask  what  'fluence  yo' 
have  wid  de  'ministration?" 

Miss  Smith  smiled  at  Thomas,  then  cast  a  grateful 
look  toward  James. 

"  Mister  Graham  am  my  'fluence,  Mister  Jefferson," 
she  said,  again  dropping  her  eyes. 

"Yo'  comes  well  recommended.  Is  yo'  'quainted 
wid  de  duties  ob  dc  office,  madam?"  questioned  the 
important  Thomas,  now  in  full  business  tone,  as  he 
swayed  back  and  forth  at  the  Secretary's  desk. 


i8a       THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Miss  Smith  looked  a  little  frightened.  She  was  not 
prepared  for  an  examination  upon  her  capacity  for 
official  service. 

"  I  is  ter  scrub  de  secon'  floo'  ob  de  north  wing  ob 
de  Wo'  Department,  Mister  Jefferson,"  she  answered, 
as  though  she  were  repeating  a  lesson. 

Thomas  nodded  approval.  He  leaned  pompously 
back  in  his  chair,  and  plunged  his  hands  into  his 
trousers'  pockets. 

"And  what  requisites  has  yo'  fo'  de  duties,  Mis' 
Smith?"  he  asked  in  a  lordly  tone,  while  poor  Miss 
Smith  began  to  lose  the  slight  courage  which  she 
had  gained. 

"Six  children  an'  a  baby,  sah,"  she  stammered 
hesitatingly. 

"Ah!"  exclaimed  Thomas,  "and  is  yo'  'quainted 
wid  scrubbin'?" 

"Yes,  sah,"  she  proudly  replied.  "I  has  scrubbed 
dem  all,  Mister  Jefferson." 

"Yes,"  commented  Thomas  slowly.  "And  yo' 
is  a  widow,  I  considers,  madam?"  he  queried,  smiling 
upon  her  threadbare,  black  and  one-time  widow's 
cap. 

Hope  rose  once  more  within  her  heart  and  she 
answered,  almost  gayly:  "Mister  Smith  died  seven 
years  ago,  sah." 

"Dat  am  a  recommendation  in  yo'  favor,  Mis' 
Smith,"  declared  Thomas,  slapping  the  table  em- 
phatically. 

"Mister  Graham  don'  remarked  as  much,"  volun- 
teered Miss  Smith  in  a  pleased  voice. 

Thomas  arose  majestically  and,  waving  his  hand 
toward  the  kitchen,  dismissed  the  applicant  for  office 


WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  183 

with  the  important  remark :  "  Yo'  will  please  retire 
to  de  kitchen,  Mis'  Smith.  I  wishes  to  consult  yo' 
'fluence." 

"Thank  yo',  Mister  Jefferson,"  replied  the  dusky 
widow  with  six  children  and  a  baby,  as  she  hurried 
to  obey,  and  disappeared  awkwardly  through  the 
doorway. 

The  bell  again  rang  loudly;  but  Thomas  still 
heeded  not  and  turned  to  James.  He  regarded  his 
companion  with  political  sagacity  before  he  spoke : 

"Me  an'  de  Secretary  is  not  appointin'  to-day, 
Mister  Graham." 

James  looked  knowingly  at  Thomas,  and  Thomas 
looked  knowingly  at  James.  James  broke  the 
silence,  but  temporarily  evaded  the  thought  which 
passed  between  them. 

"I  understands  de  Congress — " 

Thomas  raised  his  hand  with  energetic  authority: 
"I  does  not  talk  fo'  publication  to-day,  sah." 

There  was  an  awkward  pause. 

When  James  had  been  given  time  to  recover 
sufficiently  from  the  severe  reproof,  the  greater  power 
leaned  toward  him  over  the  Secretary's  desk,  and 
added  very  confidentially:  "Dar  is  forty  dollars  a 
month  attached  to  de  office,  Mister  Graham." 

James  stepped  close  to  Thomas,  but  allowed  his 
usual  dignity  to  assert  itself,  as  he  corrected  the 
pompous  keeper  of  the  Secretary's  pantry.  "Begs 
pardon,  sah;  but  dar  am  thirty  dollars  a  month 
'tached  ter  de  office,  Mister  Jefferson.  I  has  recom- 
mended Mis'  Smith  ter  hab  ten  dollars  de-tached,  sah." 

Thomas  smiled  with  approval  and  remarked  wisely : 
"We  understands  each  udder,  Mister  Graham.  Me 


1 84       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

and  de  Secretary  will  consider  de  application  favor- 
able, Mister  Graham." 

James  bowed  low. 

"I's  duly  grateful,  Mister  Jefferson,"  he  replied. 

Thomas  smiled  condescendingly,  but  answered 
politely:  "Don't  mention  it,  Mister  Graham.  The 
Government  mus'  hab  de  bes'  skilled  labor.  Fo'  dc 
sake  ob  de  party  and  de  Government,  sah.  De 
party  mus'  live,"  he  added  thoughtfully. 

The  dusky  politicians  were  suddenly  thrown  into 
utter  consternation,  as  often  happens,  by  the  sudden 
swish  of  a  petticoat. 

Mrs.  Randolph  entered  hurriedly.  Upon  seeing 
his  mistress,  Thomas  sprang  to  his  feet  with  hasty 
deference. 

"Thomas!  Thomas!"  she  exclaimed. 

"Yes,  madam,  beg  pardon,  madam,"  he  responded 
humbly. 

"  What's  that  bell?  Why  doesn't  some  one  answer 
it?  It's  deafening!"  scolded  the  lady. 

Thomas  bowed  apologetically,  and  motioned  to 
James  to  exit  quickly  into  the  hall.  "Beg  pardon, 
madam,  it's  de  maid's  place,  madam.  I'll  speak  ter 
de  maid." 

"Answer  the  bell  first,"  commanded  the  lady  of  the 
house,  with  little  regard  to  the  order  of  precedence 
among  the  plebeian  world. 

"It's  your  deal,  Mrs.  Randolph,"  called  Sir  Charles 
Merriman  from  the  adjoining  card-room,  the  door  of 
which  had  been  left  open  when  the  hostess  had 
entered  the  dining-room. 

Sir  Charles  was  an  attach6  of  the  English  Legation. 
He  had  apparently  also  attached  himself,  as  far  as 


WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  185 

possible,  to  the  good  graces  of  the  Secretary's  fair 
wife.  Mrs.  Wilson  and  Count  Flambeau  made  up  the 
game  of  bridge. 

"Deal  for  me,  Count,"  called  back  the  hostess. 
"And,  Sophie,  have  an  eye  on  him!" 

Mrs.  Randolph  seated  herself  at  the  banquet- table 
to  flatter  herself  into  the  belief  that  she,  and  not 
Thomas,  was  the  sole  creator  of  all  things  good  for 
the  coming  event.  She  began  her  inspection  by 
reviewing  the  evening  menu,  a  Parisian  toy  where, 
concealed  beneath  the  feet  of  a  Cupid  who  held  the 
china  menu-card,  was  a  music-box  and,  as  she  raised 
the  emblem  of  love,  music  tinkled  forth.  She 
smiled  approvingly. 

Meanwhile  Sophie  had  pushed  the  cards  toward 
Flambeau,  and  called  back  laughingly,  "I've  had 
two  eyes  on  the  Count  for  years,  Louise." 

Thomas  reentered  the  dining-room  and  approached 
Mrs.  Randolph  with  some  uncertainty,  his  white  eyes 
rolling  dubiously.  "De  maid  say  it  am  yo'  gown, 
madam." 

Mrs.  Randolph  looked  annoyed. 

"Why  do  you  bother  me  with  trifles  when  I'm 
engaged,  Thomas?  Why  don't  you  take  it  to  my 
room?"  she  asked  impatiently. 

Thomas  looked  anxiously  at  the  handsome  frown- 
ing face  before  him,  and  felt  the  impending  storm. 

"  De  maid  say  she  won't  leave  it,  madam,  widout 
de  money." 

Cupid  was  thrust  upon  the  table,  and  the  music 
stopped.  Mrs.  Randolph  rose  angrily.  "Won't 
leave  it!"  she  exclaimed.  "The  insolence!  Does 
she  know  who  I  am?" 


i86       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

She  turned  fiercely  upon  the  servant,  who  blurted 
out  nervously,  "She  say  she's  don'  bis'ness  wid  yo' 
befo',  madam." 

Mrs.  Randolph  clenched  her  hands. 

"She  will  never  do  business  with  me  again!"  she 
cried.  "I  am  finished!  I  dismiss  her!  I'll — rum 
her  business!" 

"Yes,  madam,"  acquiesced  Thomas,  in  an  effort 
to  humor  the  great  lady  whose  temper  he  had  often 
had  reason  to  know.  "She  say  yo've  don'  ruined 
her  already,  madam." 

"Ruin  her,  indeed!"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Randolph. 
"She  should  be  ruined." 

At  the  sound  of  feminine  onslaught  in  the  dining- 
hall,  the  impatient  Sophie  appeared  from  the  card- 
room,  followed  by  the  two  men,  by  way  of  possible 
reinforcement. 

"What  is  it,  dear?"  she  said,  placing  an  affection- 
ate arm  around  Mrs.  Randolph,  but  her  hostess 
refused  to  be  pacified. 

"It  is  this,"  she  exclaimed,  with  angry  eyes:  "my 
dressmaker  has  the  impertinence  to  refuse  to  leave 
my  gown  for  the  ball  to-night  without  the  money." 

"  Pay  her  with  chips,"  volunteered  the  Count  gayly. 

Sophie  turned  upon  him  indignantly. 

"The  woman  must  be  losing  her  mind!"  she 
exclaimed.  "Don't  you  ever  employ  that  dress- 
maker again,  Count,"  she  commanded. 

Flambeau  raised  his  brows  in  question. 

"But  I  never  have  employed  a  dressmaker,"  he 
remonstrated. 

"Tut!  tut!"  laughed  Sophie,  "only  by  proxy,  dear 
Count." 


WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES  187 

Flambeau  shrugged  his  shoulders  and  laughed. 

"Some  of  our  friends'  wives  are  so  shabby,  dont- 
cherknow,"  explained  Sir  Charles  with  a  dry  chuckle. 

"And  some  of  your  checks  go  astray,  eh?"  com- 
mented Sophie,  shaking  her  head  disapprovingly  at 
him. 

During  this  little  play  Mrs.  Randolph  had  been 
thinking  hard. 

"Has  she  the  gown  here,  Thomas?"  she  asked  at 
length. 

"Yes,  madam,"  answered  Thomas;  "it  am  below, 
madam." 

The  anger  had  died  out  of  the  lady's  lovely  eyes, 
and  she  now  turned  them  upon  Sir  Charles  with  tears 
trembling  in  their  depths.  She  knew  so  well  when  to 
use  pathos  and  how. 

Sir  Charles  drew  his  purse  slowly  from  his  pocket, 
and  counted  out  some  bills.  No  one  could  tell  what 
he  thought.  He  had  his  English  visor  down. 

"May  I  have  the  honor  of  loaning  you  this  trifle?" 
he  asked,  presenting  two  one-hundred-dollar  bills  to 
her. 

"Oh,  thank  you,"  said  Mrs.  Randolph,  as  she 
accepted  the  money. 

The  Count  had  waved  a  farewell  kiss  to  Sir  Charles's 
donation  behind  Mrs.  Randolph's  chair,  but  as  that 
lady  turned  toward  him,  exclaiming  the  one  word 
"Count?"  with  an  interrogation-point  after  it,  the 
wily  diplomat  relaxed  his  expression  to  one  of 
hopeless  misery. 

"  Here  is  a  check  for  fifty,"  he  said  sadly,  handing 
her  a  slip  of  paper. 

"Thank  you,  Count."     She  flashed  him  a  bright 


188        THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

smile  of  triumphant  gratitude.     All  was  fair  weather 
now. 

"If  Madame  Soule"  won't  take  any  more  of  your 
checks,  Count,"  she  said  laughing,  "I  will,  if  you 
have  no  more  use  for  them.  Keep  tabs  on  the  game 
till  it  is  over.  You  will  not  have  to  remind  me  to' 
recall  this  one." 

She  waved  her  hand  graciously  toward  the  card- 
room.  "Go  back  to  your  playthings,  children,  and 
I  will  join  you  directly,"  she  smiled  cordially. 

"Come,  friends,"  called  the  Count,  moving  toward 
the  door,  "we  are  now  dismissed!" 

Sophie  looked  admiringly,  though  disapprovingly, 
at  her  hostess,  and  followed  the  Count,  while  Sir 
Charles  obeyed  Sophie's  nod.  and  wondered  what 
his  reward  would  be. 

An  Englishwoman  generally  intends  to  repay  in 
some  way,  but  Sir  Charles  had  yet  to  learn  that  the 
American  woman  of  position  rarely  considers  pay- 
ment for  past  favors  from  the  stronger  sex,  unless 
it  pleases  her  to  do  so.  Certainly,  such  an  idea 
never  entered  Mrs.  Randolph's  head.  She  had  the 
money,  and  there  was  an  end  to  it.  Why  the  men 
had  given  it  was  not  in  question;  but  how  she  should 
use  it  was. 

Mrs.  Randolph  was  a  leader  of  fashion.  Too 
much  was  expected  from  her,  perhaps,  according  to 
her  husband's  means.  She  realized  that  the  Secre- 
tary's allowance  to  her  was  all  that  he  could  afford; 
but  the  fact  remained  unaltered  that  it  was  not 
sufficient  for  her  ambitious  necessities.  So  she  cast 
about  for  additional  substance,  and  soon  found  a 
means  to  obtain  it. 


WHILE  SOME  WREATHE  ROSES   189 

Mrs.  Randolph  was  a  successful,  though  an  un- 
scrupulous leader  in  her  field,  as  many  successful 
and  respected  men  are  in  theirs. 

She  turned  to  Thomas,  and  said :  "  Here,  give  this 
hundred  to  the  woman.  Tell  her  I  will  send  the 
balance  to-morrow.  Get  the  gown,  Thomas,  before 
she  counts  the  money,"  she  commanded. 

Thomas  bowed  and  went  out. 

As  Mrs.  Randolph  re-entered  the  card-room,  Sophie 
was  having  her  palm  read  by  Sir  Charles,  and  Flam- 
beau took  the  opportunity  to  whisper  to  his  hostess : 

"What  did  you  do  with  the  check  for  $2,000  I 
gave  you?" 

Mrs.  Randolph  smiled  wisely  upon  him,  and 
replied:  "I  deposited  it  in  the  Secretary's  account, 
temporarily." 

Flambeau  clutched  the  table,  a  ghastly  fear  over- 
spreading his  face. 

"The  Secretary's!"  he  gasped. 

"And  mine,"  continued  Mrs.  Randolph,  smiling 
complacently.  "A  joint  account.  I  told  you  what 
occurred  between  Dunnont  and  myself  so  I  thought, 
if  anything  happened,  it  might  be  even  wiser  to  have 
the  Secretary  tied  in  with  us  instead  of  Durmont." 

The  Count  leaned  back  and  regarded  his  fair 
hostess  with  grateful  admiration. 

"You  are  wonderful!"  he  whispered  and  shuffled 
the  cards. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES  o'  MICE  AN'  MEN  GANG  AFT 
A-GLEY 

An  hour  later,  a  bright  voice  was  heard  in  the 
outer  room. 

"You  needn't  announce  me,  Thomas,"  it  said. 
"I  know  where  to  find  Mrs.  Randolph,"  and  Ellice 
Courtney  burst  into  the  card-room. 

At  the  sound  of  her  voice,  Count  Flambeau  rose 
hurriedly  and  disappeared  through  a  further  door, 
but  not  before  the  girl  had  seen  him.  Ellice  stood 
watching  him  make  his  escape;  then  her  merry 
laugh  rang  forth.  For  the  benefit  of  all,  she  nodded 
at  the  Count's  hasty  exit  and  then  to  herself,  as  she 
explained  in  true  comedy  style:  "We — are  not 
speaking!" 

"Why  not?"  asked  Mrs.  Wilson  with  interest, 
while  the  others  gathered  about  the  girl  with  amused 
faces. 

For  answer,  Ellice  laughed;  then  she  cried, 
laughter  bubbling  through  each  sentence:  "He  has 
broken  my  heart!  He  has  broken  my  innocent 
heart,  and  now — come  death!" 

She  crossed  herself  devoutly,  while  Mrs.  Randolph 
playfully  slapped  her  arm. 

"Tell  us  the  truth,  mischief,"  she  cajoled.  "Did 
190 


THE  BEST   LAID  SCHEMES     191 

he  propose  to  you,  petite  mtchante?  He  is  quite 
capable  of  it.  Tell  us." 

Ellice  nodded  her  head  in  the  affirmative. 

"He  did,"  she  vowed,  "and  then  he  jilted  me!" 
She  tried  in  vain  to  smother  her  mirth,  and  look 
serious  and  woe-begone. 

"How  did  he  do  it?"  asked  Sir  Charles  curiously, 
feeling  he  had  missed  the  point  of  the  story,  which 
was  not  unusual  with  him. 

Ellice  turned  toward  the  Englishman  and,  speaking 
with  emphasis,  continued  with  mock  sadness  in  her 
tones:  "Man  proposed,  and  I  accepted.  Next  we 
compared  bank  accounts  and,  when  he  discovered 
that  mine  was  father's  and  not  father's  mine,  he  re- 
tracted his  honorable  intentions.  And  I  am  no 
longer  the  '  Flower  of  his  Life! ' ' 

A  voice  from  without  arrested  her  attention,  amid 
the  general  laughter  Which  her  humor  excited. 

"You  may  well  look  annoyed,  Mrs.  Wilson," 
exclaimed  Ellice,  turning  upon  the  elder  lady  with 
the  unconscious  insolence  of  youth.  "That  voice 
belongs  to  Tim  Brander.  He  has  proposed  to  me 
three  times  in  the  last  hour,  and — all  out  of  one  quart 
of  wine.  Don't  give  him  any  more,  or  he  will  commit 
bigamy!  0  Bacchus,  save  me!"  she  cried,  then 
paused  to  listen. 

"Did  she  go  in  here,  Thomas?"  asked  the  voice 
again,  and  young  Brander  appeared  in  the  doorway. 
"Greetings,  Mrs.  Randolph!"  he  cried.  "Where  is 
my  runaway?" 

Ellice  ran  to  the  other  side  of  the  table. 

"That's  right,"  he  laughed,  his  eyes  following  her 
tenderly.  "Keep  away  from  me.  Keep  away!" 


i92        THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

He  turned  politely  to  the  hostess,  and  explained: 
"  Chere  madame,  I've  been  drinking  wine,  and  when 
I've  been  drinking  wine  I'm  real  devilish!" 

"And  more  intelligent  perhaps,  Tim?"  smiled 
Mrs.  Wilson. 

"What  did  you  say?"  he  asked  with  assumed 
dignity. 

"I  never  repeat,"  said  Sophie,  "lest  my  wit  lose 
its  virtue." 

"You  stole  that  from  me,"  whispered  Sir  Charles. 

"Which?"  asked  Sophie. 

Sir  Charles  looked  puzzled,  but  Mrs.  Randolph 
came  to  the  rescue. 

"It  is  hard  to  determine  what  virtue  is  in  this 
world;  for  the  men  write  all  the  books  about  it," 
she  said  with  a  hopeless  little  sigh. 

"Not  lately,"  remarked  Sophie.  "Mere  man  dare 
not  cope  with  the  English  woman-novelist.  Have 
you  read  'The  Thoughts  of  a  Bridegroom'  (in  full), 
by  An  English  Countess?" 

One  might  have  suspected  that  silence  meant  more 
than  words  when  Ellice  Courtney  was  present  with- 
out being  heard ;  but  with  the  seduction  of  roses  and 
wine,  people  seldom  think — emotions  alone  sway,  as 
they  did  at  this  moment,  for  it  was  Tim  only  who 
felt  the  absence  of  the  girl  he  loved. 

"  I'm  looking  for  my  affinity,"  he  declared,  suddenly 
glancing  around  for  Ellice;  but  she  had  escaped 
unnoticed. 

"Come,  sit  and  console  yourself,  Tim,"  urged  the 
adroit  hostess.  "  We  need  another  hand." 

"Of  course,"  assented  Sir  Charles,  and  forced  the 
young  malcontent  into  the  Count's  chair. 


THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES     193 

Meanwhile  Ellice  had  walked  cautiously  through 
the  wide  hall,  hoping  to  meet  Durmont,  and,  taking 
good  care  not  to  collide  with  Flambeau,  if  he  should 
have  remained  in  the  house.  She  knew  the  surround- 
ings well,  and  her  pretty  head  was  feverish  with 
thoughts  of  the  past  and  questions  of  the  present. 
Such  sunny  natures  seldom  look  toward  the  future; 
but,  with  all  their  merriment,  how  keenly  intense  and 
stubbornly  loyal  their  little  hearts  can  be!  Even 
under  heavy  burdens  or  approaching  death,  such 
natures  are  capable  of  laughter  and  witticism.  We 
call  them  light;  but  are  they? 

The  library  door  stood  ajar,  and  the  girl  peeped1  in. 
The  Secretary  sat  at  his  desk.  He  was  alone.  After 
a  moment's  hesitation  the  sweet  voice  called,  "Mr. 
Randolph,  may  I  come  in?" 

The  Secretary  turned  in  his  revolving-chair  until 
he  saw  the  questioner. 

"  Certainly,"  he  answered,  rising  to  meet  her.  "  It 
is  many  a  day  since  I  have  been  honored  by  so  fair 
a  guest."  < 

"Please  keep  your  seat,"  begged  Ellice,  smiling 
up  at  him. 

A  wondrously  sweet  smile  softened  the  lined  face 
greeting  hers. 

"Anything  troubling  you?"  he  asked  kindly,  re- 
suming his  chair,  while  Ellice  selected  a  pile  of  books 
near  him,  and  seated  herself  upon  them.  "You 
look  pale,  my  child,"  he  added,  observing  her  in- 
tently; but  the  little  face  was  all  merriment  in  a 
moment. 

"I  guess  I  am  anaemic,"  she  said  dimpling.  "I 
have  been  reading  Browning." 


i94       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

The  Secretary  smiled  also,  as  he  patted  her  bright 
head. 

"Your  poet  has  a  balm  for  every  wound,"  he 
suggested  thoughtfully. 

The  silence  was  unbroken  for  several  moments; 
then  Ellice  looked  bravely  up  at  the  old  man  beside 
her,  and  spoke  with  evident  effort: 

"Mr.  Randolph,  where  is — Nick?" 

The  Secretary  started  perceptibly,  but  he  answered 
calmly,  without  looking  at  the  questioner. 

"He  is  in  California,  my  dear." 

Ellice  stared  at  him  an  instant  in  doubt;  then 
shook  her  head.  "Oh,  no,  I  am  afraid  he  isn't," 
she  said  with  conviction. 

The  old  Secretary  glanced  anxiously  at  the  girl, 
but  did  not  trust  himself  to  speak. 

Ellice  slid  off  the  books  to  her  knees  beside  him, 
and  placed  her  hands  firmly  on  the  arm  of  his  chair. 

"I  was  afraid  you  didn't  know,"  she  whispered, 
"and  I  had  hoped  so  that  Mr.  Durmont  had  found 
out.  The  reason  I  came  to-day  was  because  Ben 
Morton  said  some  one  has  connected  Nick's  name 
with  the  murderous  attack  on  General  Hartley.  I 
can't  understand  any  of  it,  but  Nick  is  good.  I 
know  he  is,"  asserted  the  little  girl  excitedly,  a  sob 
choking  her  voice. 

The  old  man  patted  the  small  clenched  hand  upon 
his  chair. 

"I  am  sure  of  that,"  he  said  in  a  low  voice;  "but 
Nick  is  all  right,  dear,"  he  added  hastily  to  re-assure 
her. 

The  young  girl  ignored  his  last  remark,  and 
glanced  around  to  make  certain  they  were  alone. 


THE   BEST  LAID  SCHEMES     195 

"There  is  only  one  person  who  knows,"  she 
whispered. 

The  Secretary  turned  upon  her. 

"Who?"  he  gasped  involuntarily. 

Ellice  answered  quickly :  "  Donna  Carima  Astrados ! 
She  knows  everything,  but  she  won't  even  see  me 
since  that  night.  First  she  was  ill;  then  she — she 
avoided  me,"  declared  the  girl  earnestly.  "It  is 
two  long  weeks  and — now — you  must  see  her  and 
find  out  what  it  all  means." 

The  old  man  took  the  girl's  bonnie  face  between  his 
kind  hands,  and  looked  intently  into  the  tear-filled 
eyes.  His  heart,  too,  was  overflowing  with  emotions. 
He  realized  both  her  love  and  her  sweet  loveliness. 

"Thank  you,  dear,"  he  said.  "You  are  playing 
on  an  old  man's  heart-strings,  but  you  mustn't 
believe  all  you  hear." 

Ellice  dashed  away  her  tears. 

"I  won't  believe  anything  I  hear  if  you  will  find 
out  where  Nick  is,"  she  said,  trying  to  smile. 

They  each  looked  at  the  other,  each  tried  to  speak; 
but  age  and  youth  were  alike  baffled  by  their  aching 
hearts. 

The  Secretary  turned  aside  to  control  himself,  and 
when  he  had  recovered  the  room  was  empty.  He 
arose  to  recall  Ellice;  but,  instead,  lifted  his  arms 
toward  Heaven  and  cried:  "Oh!  my  boy,  my  boy, 
where  are  you?  Oh!  God,  where  is  he?" 

He  tottered  to  his  desk  in  his  loneliness,  and  fell 
upon  it,  burying  his  face  in  his  arms.  When  he 
glanced  up  again  some  moments  later,  it  was  to  find 
Thomas  standing  near,  gazing  upon  him  with  troubled 
and  devoted  eyes. 


196       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Oh,  is  yo'  ill,  Mister  Randolph?"  he  asked  with 
feeling. 

"No,  thank  you,  Thomas,  I'm  all  right,"  answered 
the  Secretary. 

Thomas  bowed  and  turned  toward  the  door,  but 
he  stopped  half-way  and,  wiping  away  a  tear,  asked : 
"  Is  dar  nothin'  mo'  I  kin  do  fo'  yo ',  Mister  Ran- 
dolph?" 

"Nothing,  thank  you,  Thomas,"  answered  the 
Secretary.  "Oh,  Thomas?"  he  called. 

"Yes,  sah,"  answered  the  servant,  hurrying  to 
his  master. 

"I  have  placed  your  friend,  Miss  Smith,  on  the 
rolls.  She  goes  to  work  to-morrow." 

"Oh,  thank  yo',  Mister  Secretary.  I  'sured  Mis' 
Smith  de  'pointrnent  would  be  made,  sah.  Sure 
der  ain't  nothin'  mo'  I  kin  do  fo'  yo',  Mister  Secre- 
tary?" 

"No,  thank  you,"  said  the  Secretary,  turning  to 
his  desk. 

He  picked  up  an  official  letter,  and  smiled  upon  it. 

"I  am  glad  this  came,"  he  murmured;  "I  can't 
last  much  longer,  and  I  want  Durmont  to  be  pro- 
moted." 

As  he  spoke  the  young  man  entered.  The  old 
man  turned  feebly  to  his  faithful  secretary,  and 
questioned,  "  Have  you  my  bank-book  and  accounts 
balanced?" 

Durmont's  face  was  filled  with  deep  concern. 

"I  went  to  the  bank,  sir,  but — there  is  nothing  in 
the  bank,"  he  answered  hesitatingly. 

It  wrung  John  Durmont's  heart  to  tell  the  Secretary ; 
but  it  had  to  be  done  and  at  once. 


THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES      197 

"  Nothing ! "  echoed  Mr.  Randolph.  "  Why,  John, 
my  balance  was  forty  thousand  odd,  a  week  ago!" 
he  exclaimed  in  bewilderment. 

Durmont  examined  some  papers,  as  he  tried  to 
explain. 

"The  account  was  jointly  in  Mrs.  Randolph's 
name  and  yours,  was  it  not,  Mr.  Secretary?" 

"She  drew  it  out?"  gasped  the  Secretary. 

"Yes,  sir,  to-day,"  replied  Durmont. 

The  Secretary  sank  back  in  his  chair;  then,  strug- 
gling with  the  mighty  forces  within  his  heart,  he 
made  a  supreme  effort  and  turned  to  the  young  man. 

"Ah,  yes,"  he  muttered,  conquering  himself.  "I 
remember  now,  Durmont.  I  asked  her  to  do  it.  I 
wished  her  to  have  it — a  present,  I  gave  her — a 
little  present— 

"  Here  is  the  messenger  now,  sir,"  interrupted 
Durmont,  as  Thomas  ushered  in  a  bank  clerk,  who 
presented  a  passbook  to  the  War  Secretary,  also  a 
letter,  which  he  immediately  tore  open. 

Durmont  moved  to  retire;  for  at  that  moment 
Mrs.  Randolph  had  entered,  and  he  thought  it  more 
gracious  to  take  his  leave. 

The  Secretary's  voice,  however,  arrested  him. 

"A  moment,  Durmont.  Look  into  this."  He 
motioned  to  the  clerk  to  wait  without,  then  pointed 
to  the  letter,  and  read: 

"  Kindly  send  your  check  for  two  thousand  dollars 
to  make  up  deficiency  for  enclosed  check,  returned 
unpaid  for  proper  endorsement." 

Mrs.  Randolph  stepped  quickly  forward. 

"Give  it  to  me — it  is  a  mistake— it  is—  She 
held  out  her  trembling  hand,  as  she  spoke. 


198       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

But  the  Secretary  retained  the  check,  and  turned 
it  over  slowly:  "A  check  from  Armand  Flambeau  to 
— my  wife!  I  have  never  admitted  this  even  to 
myself,  until  now,"  he  muttered  faintly.  "You — 
you!  I  could  not  believe  it;  now  I  know!" 

His  face  convulsed  with  pain,  as  he  covered  it  with 
his  hands. 

Mrs.  Randolph  remained  outwardly  calm,  won- 
dering what  was  best  to  do.  She  had  only  seen  her 
husband  angry  a  few  times  in  her  life;  but  the  memory 
still  frightened  her. 

"Please,  don't — "  she  cried,  coming  close  to  him, 
and  trying  to  draw  his  hands  away  from  his  lowered 
head.  "I  will  fix  the  check.  It  is  only  a  mistake." 

"Yes,"  cried  her  husband,  "you  may  be  able  to 
fix  the  check;  but  can  you  alter  the  fact  that  this 
man  has  been  your  intermediary  in  my  ruin;  that 
he  has  taken  money  for  appointments  which  you  have 
persuaded  me  to  make,  and  given  part  or  all  to  you; 
that  he  has  worked  up  the  cases,  while  he  received 
the  hospitality  of  my  house,  and  his  reward? — God 
only  knows  the  extent  of  his  reward!" 

He  had  risen  to  his  feet;  the  fire  burned  in  his  eyes, 
but  now  it  sunk  away,  and  he  fell  back  in  his  chair, 
trembling  and  cold. 

"All  this  is  quite  untrue;  and,  please,  be  more 
respectful  to  your  wife,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Randolph, 
still  undecided  about  her  tactics. 

Again  the  old  Secretary  roused  his  courage  and 
sat  upright. 

"Durmont,"  he  commanded,  "tear  up  that  check; 
and  now,  Mrs.  Randolph,"  he  said  sternly,  "sit  at 
that  desk  and  write  a  note  inviting  Donna  Carima 


THE  BEST  LAID  SCHEMES      199 

Astrados  to  attend  our  ball  to-night.  She  refused 
your  invitation,  but  if  she  again  rejects  your  re- 
quest the  ball  will  not  be  given." 

The  Secretary  never  knew  what  the  note  contained. 
Mrs.  Randolph  wrote  for  some  time,  threw  the  pen 
from  her  and,  drawing  an  orchid  from  her  bodice, 
crushed  the  juice  cruelly  from  the  beautiful  glowing 
leaves  upon  the  fold  of  the  envelope,  sealed  it,  and 
handed  it  to  her  husband. 

"That  will  bring  her,"  she  said  maliciously  and 
swept  from  the  room. 

The  Secretary  looked  after  her  a  moment,  then 
turned  to  Durmont.  "Give  me  the  document 
embodying  the  treaty  which  Donna  Carima  desires," 
he  requested.  "  I  will  sign  it,  and  send  it  with  the 
note." 


CHAPTER   XXI 

WOMAN  vs.  MAN 

"It's  too  early  for  the  ball,  Linda,"  said  Sharp. 
"  Give  me  a  drink,  and  let's  sit  here  for  an  hour.  I'm 
tired,  and  your  rooms  are  always  cool  and  soothing." 

He  threw  himself  upon  the  sofa  and  closed  his 
eyes.  Linda  prepared  a  refreshing  julep,  with 
Southern  deftness,  and  brought  it  to  him. 

He  turned  on  his  side  and  complacently  regarded 
her,  as  he  sipped  the  beverage:  "You  look  stunning 
to-night,"  he  said.  "What  do  you  represent?" 

"Juno,  I  believe,"  she  answered,  her  thoughts 
far  away.  Then  her  eyes  fell  upon  the  Congressman's 
evening  dress.  "Where  is  your  domino?"  she  asked. 

"There,  with  my  hat,"  he  replied,  indicating  a 
small  package. 

"  Are  you  ashamed  of  it?"  she  queried,  undoing  it 
and  shaking  it  out. 

He  looked  around  her  pretty  rooms. 

"Well,  the  time  is  come,"  he  said,  "when  some 
women  no  longer  have  to  marry  for  a  home  and 
support.  The  next  generation  of  femininity  will  be 
educated  to  a  profession  or  business,  I  suppose." 

"Then,"  answered  Linda,  thoughtfully,  "a  woman 
will  marry  a  man  merely  for  his  true  worth."  She 
laughed  lightly.  "It  will  seem  almost  improper, 
won't  it? "she added. 


WOMAN  VS.  MAN  201 

Sharp  laughed  and  touched  her  hand,  as  she  sat 
near  him. 

"  I  have  never  cared  for  any  one  as  I  care  for  you, 
Linda,"  he  said,  smothering  a  yawn  which  did  not 
interfere  with  his  sincerity. 

Linda's  lip  curled  cynically : 

"  That  is  the  best  a  woman  can  even  hope  for — the 
best  love  of  a  man's  life;  never  the  only  love,  just 
the  best  love;  and  yet  so  many  women  give  their 
best,  their  first,  their  only  love  to  a  man." 

"But,"  interrupted  Sharp,  "a  man's  first  love  is 
worthless,  and  a  woman's  last  love  is  hardly  worth 
the  giving." 

"Do  you  think  so?"  Linda  asked  sadly,  "why?" 

Sharp  glanced  at  her  shrewdly,  trying  to  divine 
her  secret  thoughts.  After  a  moment  he  leaned 
back  defeated.  "Oh,  the  error  was  begun  so  many 
hundred  years  ago;  we  can  only  accept,  not  explain 
the  law  of  man  and  woman,"  he  replied  a  little 
impatiently. 

Linda  sat  up  indignantly.  Sharp  sipped  his 
julep. 

"  The  error  was  begun  in  the  primitive  ages,  when 
woman  was  dethroned  from  her  life  of  free  equality 
with  man,"  she  said,  the  light  of  rebellion  growing  in 
her  eyes,  as  she  continued;  "when  she  hunted  for 
herself,  protected  herself,  and  lived  her  own  life, 
before  man  captured  and  imprisoned  her  and  tore 
away  the  freedom  of  her  self-life  which  nature  gave 
her.  Man  weakened  her  by  degrees,  both  mentally 
and  physically;  he  demanded  that  she  live  for  him, 
not  for  hereelf.  He  encouraged  her  in  laziness  and 
immorality,  because  they  gave  him  power  over  her. 


THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

This  is  the  true  story  of  Woman's  Fall,  though  you 
do  not  acknowledge  it." 

Sharp  looked  at  her  with  admiration,  then  sighed 
plaintively  and  yawned  again. 

"That  may  be  true,"  he  said  with  a  suspicion  of  a 
smile;  "but  those  blissful  days  are  o'er,  Linda,  and 
think  of  the  penalty  poor  man  must  pay  if  the  present 
woman's  revolution  is  a  forerunner  of  future  woes!" 

"You  only  laugh  at  me,"  pouted  Linda,  turning 
away  from  him. 

"No,"  he  assured  her,  over  the  rim  of  his  julep 
cup,  "I  am  in  earnest.  Why,  you  have  made  me 
suffer  enough  to  repay  for  all  my  forefathers  who  did 
the  first  capturing.  But  now  that  you  have  risen 
above  your  deluded  sisters,  will  you  meet  me  on  an 
even  basis?  I  find  that  most  of  the  new  women 
bear  such  a  grudge  against  poor  man,  they  think  it 
weak  to  meet  him  half-way;  but  must  sink  him  into 
the  dust  of  humiliation,  before  they  feel  quite  '  even.' 
Please  don't  do  this,  because  in  doing  so  you  are 
drifting  so  far  away  from  love.  Remember,  Linda, 
dear,"  and  his  voice  became  almost  plaintive,  "if 
woman  asserts  herself,  she  must  be  big  and  strong  and 
live  up  to  Woman's  natural  ideals,  not  fall  to  man's; 
and  if  you  cultivate  ideas  and  labor  to  carry  them 
out,  you  have  less  chance  of  being  happy;  for  ideas 
mean  ambitions,  which  crave  to  be  satisfied." 

"But,"  Linda  protested  quickly,  "look  at  the 
hardships  a  woman  has  to  endure  to  be  acknowl- 
edged by  the  world.  A  man  with  ideas  is  called  a 
genius,  a  woman  with  ideas  is  called  a  crank!" 

"Not  when  she  is  clever  and  handsome  like  you, 
Linda,"  answered  Sharp,  watching  the  breeze  play 


WOMAN  VS.  MAN  203 

with  a  stray  curl  from  her  hair.  "I  am  a  man,"  he 
continued,  "and  you  have  ideas;  yet  to  me  you  are 
sublime!" 

"Then  we  had  better  stop,"  laughed  Linda. 
"Thomas  Paine  said,  'One  step  above  the  sublime 
makes  the  ridiculous,  and  one  step  above  the  ridicu- 
lous makes  the  sublime  again ' ;  so  it's  dangerous  to 
go  further;  and  then  it  isn't  encouraging  to  think 
that  extreme  ignorance  is  our  only  chance  of  hap- 
piness." 

"Well,"  demurred  the  Congressman  meditatively, 
"  that  depends  upon  what  happiness  is. " 

"What  does  it  mean  to  you?"  asked  Linda  with 
interest. 

"Happiness!"  he  said  grandly.  "Well,  happiness 
would  be  a  perfect  passion  between  a  man  and  a 
woman,  where  pure  thoughts  only  commune,  where 
every  desire  is  answered,  and  where  satiety  is  im- 
possible." 

"Have  a  care,"  she  cried  in  warning,  "you  are  not 
on  the  floor  of  the  House  of  Representatives,  sir, 
with  one  eye  on  the  gallery!" 

Sharp  paused  a  moment,  then  went  on :  "I  guess 
that  would  be  happiness  to  human  me,  but  it  has 
never  been  found  by  others,  and  the  poor  world  is 
some  seven  thousand  years  old.  If  such  a  thing 
happened,  I  fear  the  shock  would  startle  Theos  off 
his  throne,  and  send  our  little  planet  whirling  away 
into  space.  Still,"  he  declared,  again  touching  her 
hand,  "with  these  convictions  I  will  go  a-looking  for 
it  in  the  Realm  of  Future,  if  you  will  go  with  me, 
Linda?" 

"The  chances  are  too  great,"  Linda  answered, 


204       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

turning  a  .ring  upon  her  finger,  and  lowering  her  eyes 
coyly.  "  Marriage,"  she  asserted,  raising  her  straight 
pencilled  brows  reflectively,  "is  so  like  medicine. 
It  agrees  with  some,  but  disagrees  with  most!" 

Sharp  laughed  heartily,  but  he  analyzed  Linda's 
convictions  with  secret  suspicions.  She  had  played 
him  so  cleverly  at  first  that  he  had  been  petrified 
with  admiration,  horror,  and  almost  hate.  Many 
stories  had  been  whispered  of  her  life,  and  he  had 
laughed  at  the  idea  of  taking  her  as  his  wife,  yet 
found  himself  often  longing  for  her  companionship. 

Now  he  had  allowed  her  to  answer  the  question, 
though  he  had  not  actually  spoken  it ;  and — she  had 
demurred!  He  scrutinized  her  closely.  Was  she 
playing  or  was  she  in  earnest?  Would  she  refuse 
him  if  he  asked  her? 

"After  all,"  pondered  the  bon  vivant,  "it  is  quali- 
ties, not  individuals,  that  one  seeks.  To  unite  the 
cultivated  powers  of  attraction  with  the  innocence 
of  sixteen  would  be  as  difficult  as  to  perpetuate  a 
dream." 

Linda's  thought  was  active  also,  and  her  next 
remark  was  a  propos  of  life's  vagaries. 

"Strange,  is  it  not,"  she  said,  "that  no  matter 
how  ardently  we  gaze  into  another's  eyes,  we  can 
see  only  the  color,  the  depth,  but  never  the  secret 
thoughts,  the  inmost  soul  of  that  other  one.  Yet 
if  the  depth,  the  color  pleases  us,  we  are  satisfied. 
Perhaps  it  is  best  so.  The  ego  is  born  alone,  dies 
alone,  is  re-born  alone,  and  must  live  alone." 

She  sighed  deeply,  and  Sharp  realized  how  well  her 
easy  manner  of  expressing  her  thoughts  pleased  him ; 
but  the  frown  cut  deeper  into  his  well-shaped  brow. 


WOMAN  VS.  MAN  205 

He  really  couldn't  marry  her.  But  a  questioning 
fear  clutched  at  his  heart:  Could  he  live  happily 
without  her? 

Linda  misunderstood  the  look.  She  was  so  tired 
of  the  fight — the  eternal  fight  with  her  world — and, 
whatever  her  desires  for  the  adventurous  might 
have  been,  they  were  all  "lived  out"  now.  "To  be 
Mrs.  Congressman  Sharp  would  be  a  sweet  haven 
of  rest,"  thought  Linda,  but  her  thoughts  went 
bravely  on :  "  Not  if  he  did  not  truly  wish  for  her." 

"  Do  you  doubt  me?  "  asked  Sharp  curiously. 

"No,  no,"  she  answered,  "not  exactly.  I — I  was 
thinking;  perhaps  it  was  doubt  of  myself." 

She  looked  straight  at  him,  as  she  continued : 

"  You  have  played  for  me  without  serious  intention. 
I  understand  you  are  a  great  man.  I  am  really 
nobody,  but  a  woman  who  has  fought  hard,  harder 
than  you  know,  and  been  successful,  too,  in  my  fight- 
ing. It  has  made  me  a  strong  woman,  Marcus,  but 
I'm  only  a  woman." 

Her  gaze  wandered  out  through  the  window  into 
the  darkening  night. 

"We  cannot  live  in  this  world  without  desire," 
she  continued  slowly;  "desire  for  gold,  desire  for 
fame,  desire  for  love,  a  great  love,  more  than  our 
neighbors  have;  and  when  the  devil  holds  either  of 
these  three  temptations  toward  us  on  a  glittering 
delusive  salver,  we  fall — fall,  Marcus!  We  may 
resist  the  first  and  perhaps  the  second,  but  rarely 
the  third;  and  when  all  three  tempt  us,  Marcus, 
God  can't  expect  abnegation  from  us  frail  mortals. 
So  don't,  please,  don't  tempt  me." 

Her  voice  was  soft  and  pleading,  as  he  had  never 


2o6       THE  GIRL  IN    QUESTION 

heard  it  before.  Her  eyes  were  sincerely  moist,  as 
She  raised  them  to  his.  She  had  conquered  the  fear 
in  his  heart,  and  enlisted  his  sympathies.  He 
stretched  out  his  hand,  and  took  hers  firmly  in  his 
own. 

"  Little  woman,"  he  said,  "  I  want  you  for  my 
wife." 


CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL 

The  music  of  the  Marine  Band  had  sounded  the 
salute  to  the  Honorable  War  Secretary,  and  followed 
it  by  a  military  march.  Thus  the  dance  was  well 
under  way,  when  a  lovely  Cinderella  strolled  from 
the  ballroom,  fanning  herself  vigorously.  "  I  thought 
you  wouldn't  know  me,"  said  the  gallant  Knight  of 
Old,  who  accompanied  the  little  fairy-endowed 
maid. 

"Ah,  yes,"  laughed  Cinderella, "  I  would  know  you, 
Mr.  Durmont,  under  any  guise." 

"And  I  would  know  your  voice,  sweet  Ellice,  if 
it  really  came  from  a  pumpkin  carriage  drawn  by 
white  mice,"  answered  Durmont,  smiling  down  upon 
his  dainty  partner. 

"And  now  that  we  are  discovered,"  declared  Ellice, 
"please  tell  me  how  is  handsome  General  Hartley?" 

"His  condition  is  said  to  be  favorable  to  his 
recovery,"  replied  the  young  secretary. 

"  Then  it  will  no  longer  be  a  case  of  murder,  but  of 
murderous  attack?"  she  questioned  eagerly. 

"Exactly,"  answered  Durmont,  amused,  in  spite 
of  the  seriousness  of  the  reflection,  by  the  legal  dis- 
tinction drawn  by  the  young  miss. 

"This  is  my  dance,"  exclaimed  Sir  Walter  Raleigh, 
rushing  breathlessly  upon  them  and  whirling  away 

207 


208        THE  GIRL   IN   QUESTION 

with  Ellice  before  Durmont  understood  what  had 
happened.  He  turned  with  a  generous  smile,  how- 
ever, and  followed  the  little  girl  with  his  eyes. 

"A  whole  dollar  for  your  thoughts,  Sir  Knight," 
spoke  a  voice  behind  him. 

He  turned  to  see  Juno,  smiling  at  him  through  her 
white  mask. 

"I  am  happy  to-night,"  she  said  gayly.  "So  do 
tell  me  about  sorrow,  or  I  shall  forget  to  sympathize 
with  the  world!  By  the  way,  do  you  know  there  is 
a  lady  of  interest  here?"  She  leaned  very  close  to 
him  and  whispered:  "Donna  Carima  Astrados! 
You  know,  I  always  believed  she  was  the  cause  of  the 
horrible  attack  upon  General  Hartley's  life.  Rumor 
said  it  was  a  quarrel  over  one  of  Mrs.  Randolph's 
political  deals  between  Flambeau  and  Hartley;  but 
Flambeau  proved  he  was  at  Mrs.  Wilson's  that 
evening,  and  I — well — 

"Well?"  echoed  the  Knight  of  Old. 

"It  is  whispered—"  continued  Juno  lightly. 

"Who  whispered?"  demanded  the  Knight  sternly. 

"Well,"  lisped  Juno,  "some  one  saw  a  little, 
Flambeau  heard  a  little — 

"And  you  made  up  a  little?"  finished  the  Knight. 

"Oh,  I  thought  it  was  you,  Mr.  Durmont!"  cried 
the  Goddess.  "You  are  always  so  serious,  but  I 
can't  be  serious  to-night.  And  I  can't  understand 
young  women  of  our  time.  They  are  so  indiscreet." 

She  raised  her  head  haughtily  and  spoke  in  comic 
affectation.  Durmont  looked  at  her  in  surprise;  he 
had  recognized  Linda. 

"Oh,  I'm  reformed,"  she  laughed  in  answer  to  his 
look  of  inquiry.  "I  am  a  moralist.  You  will 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL  209 

understand   to-morrow.     Come,   let   us   dance   this 
waltz." 

He  placed  his  arm  upon  her  waist,  and  they  joined 
the  dancers. 

The  rooms  were  alive  with  figures,  gay,  brilliant, 
enchanting.  Gods  and  goddesses,  kings  and  queens, 
fairies,  fads,  and  fancies.  There  was  the  antique, 
the  modern,  shuffled  to  soft  music  in  the  human 
kaleidoscope  of  the  ball. 

Mrs.  Truesdale,  robed  in  rich  black,  and  representing 
only  the  gentle,  delicate  woman  she  was,  sat  in  an 
alcove  at  the  upper  end  of  the  ballroom,  watching 
the  dancers;  next  to  her  was  Sir  Charles  Merriinan, 
garbed  in  picturesque  costume  after  Bonnie  Prince 
Charlie;  while  on  the  other  side,  in  marked  contrast, 
lolled  Patrick  Henry,  representing  his  ancestor  and 
namesake  in  Continental  costume,  and  in  himself 
the  highest  type  of  Southern  gentleman.  Behind 
them  strolled  Linda  Loving  on  John  Durmont's  arm. 
She  answered  Sharp's  smile,  however,  for  her  eyes 
were  everywhere  at  once,  and  sank  into  the  chair  he 
had  reserved  for  her. 

"Who  is  that  woman  with  the  wonderful  figure?" 
inquired  the  Congressman,  addressing  his  new- 
found goddess. 

Linda  followed  his  gaze. 

"  Oh,  she  is  the  young  actress  Viola  Dias." 

"Aw,  ah,  isn't  she  smart!  And  the  man  eating  her 
up  with  his  eyes,  who  is  he?"  queried  Prince  Charlie, 
with  a  quizzical  look  toward  the  omniscient  Juno. 

"That,"  she  said,  leaning  forward  and  gazing  after 
the  couple,  "that   must  be  Michael  Damion,    the 
illustrious  Michael  Damion." 
14 


210       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"  Indeed,  I  have  heard  of  his  infatuation,"  remarked 
Patrick  Henry,  following  them  also  with  admiring 
eyes.  "She  must  be  wonderful,  for  him  to  be  so 
epris." 

"  Oh,  not  necessarily,"  answered  Juno,  un-Juno-like. 
"  She  has  charm,  but  he  will  never  rack  her  soul.  It 
is  smothered  with  too  many  coatings  of  worldly  wis- 
dom to  meet  herself,  much  less  to  meet  him." 

It  was  evident  that  Juno,  too,  was  world-wise. 

"When  a  man  loves  he  loves  too  deeply,"  remarked 
Patrick  Henry  thoughtfully. 

Linda  looked  at  him  with  twinkling  eyes.  She 
was  not  so  sure. 

"  While  he  loves,  you  mean,  dear  Patrick,"  she 
observed  by  way  of  correction. 

"Strange,  is  it  not?"  philosophized  the  statesman, 
"that  such  a  woman  has  the  power  to  awaken  and 
tear  this  really  great-brained  man  through  and 
through,  until  his  heart  bleeds  for  her  one  individ- 
uality. What  does  it  mean?  "  he  asked  half  to  himself. 

"It  means  nothing,"  answered  Prince  Charlie  with 
an  emphatic  nod.  "Nothing — 

'  Earth  could  not  answer;  nor  the  seas  that  mourn 
In  flowing  purple,  of  their  Lord  forlorn; 

Nor  rolling  heaven,  with  all  his  signs  reveal'd 
And  hidden  by  the  sleeve  of  night  and  morn.' " 

He  recited  the  lines  with  interesting  cadence,  over- 
looking the  maskers  revelling  in  life.  The  listeners 
were  impressed;  but  after  a  moment  Linda  ex- 
claimed as  she  raised  the  punch  glass  which  she  had 
taken  from  a  proffered  tray : 

"Here's  to  your  theory  of  accidental  accident, 
Prince  Charlie !  We  are  all  microbes  without  future 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL  in 

or  hope!  Kind  and  helpful  Prince,  you  are  slight 
improvement  on  the  Church,  which  says,  'Good  Lord, 
deliver  us,  we  are  miserable  sinners,  for  there  is  no 
health  in  us/  which  is  not  an  over-encouraging  sug- 
gestion to  our  Lord!  Oh!  look,  folks,"  she  cried 
breaking  off  suddenly,  "  the  distinguished  Damion  is 
kneeling  to  the  actress!" 

"He  is  fixing  her  slipper,"  explained  Patrick 
Henry  dryly. 

"Heavens,  he  will  weep  next,"  complained  Sharp 
in  humorous  sadness. 

"How  do  those  women  do  it?"  asked  Mrs.  Trues- 
dale  curiously. 

"Art,  I  suppose,  art!"  answered  Prince  Charlie 
with  pensive  interest. 

"Are  they  married — yet?"  asked  Sharp,  as  the 
couple  in  question  glided  past. 

"Oh,  no,"  negatively  replied  Linda.  "They  are 
artists!" 

Mrs.  Truesdale  colored. 

Sharp  glanced  with  appreciative  amusement  at 
his  goddess,  while  Sir  Charles  shot  an  imaginary 
cuff  from  under  Prince  Charles's  lace  ruffles. 

Patrick  Henry  arose  and  bowed  before  the  re- 
splendent Juno.  "May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  this 
dance?"  he  asked,  being  a  friend  of  all  lovers  and 
wishing  to  curb  Miss  Loving's  wagging  wit  before  it 
ran  wilder. 

"Look!"  whispered  Linda,  as  they  whirled  away; 
"  do  you  know  who  that  is  in  the  rose  domino?" 

"And  shining  white  gown  trailing  from  it?" 
queried  Patrick  Henry,  following  her  eyes  with 
interest. 


212       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"Yes.  Guess  who  she  is?"  commanded  the 
goddess. 

"I  can't.    Who  is  it?" 

"  Dance  nearer.  I  want  to  see  her  more  closely  my- 
self," suggested  Juno. 

The  lady  in  question  was  standing  in  the  centre  of 
several  gallants  of  varied  and  weird  costumes,  who 
were  disputing  her  dances  with  no  kindly  grace. 

The  masker  wore  a  mantilla  of  rich  cream  lace, 
which  hung  in  such  rippling  masses  over  her  head  that 
it  was  impossible  to  discover  even  the  tint  of  her 
hair. 

"Gentlemen,  gentlemen!"  laughed  the  lady  softly, 
UI  am  too  honored  by  this  flattery;  but,  being  a 
woman,  I  take  advantage  of  it  and  must  choose  my 
partner.  Let  me  see,  I  am  a  poor  unprotected 
damosel  and  so — I  choose,  as  my  protector — yonder 
gallant  Knight  of  Old!" 

There  was  much  dispute  and  some  annoyance  over 
the  lady's  right  of  choice,  but  she  heeded  not  and 
laughingly  floated  off  on  her  gallant's  arm.  The 
couple  waltzed  to  the  end  of  the  corridor,  which  led 
to  the  Turkish  room;  and,  as  they  reached  the  turn, 
the  lady  in  rose  stopped. 

"Let  us  promenade,  please,"  she  commanded 
softly,  and  walked  forward  toward  the  Oriental  room, 
which  was  more  free  from  observing  eyes.  The 
Knight  followed,  as  he  was  bidden,  but  when  they 
reached  the  centre  of  the  dimly  lighted  apartment, 
he  observed  his  partner  sway  slightly. 

"I  am  a  little  faint,"  she  said,  speaking  for  the 
first  time  in  her  own  vibrating  voice. 

He  sprang  to  her  side. 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL  213 

"Donna  Carima!"  he  cried.     "Are  you  ill?" 

"No,  no,  it  is  nothing,"  she  answered,  smiling 
bravely,  "just  a  moment,  please." 

She  sank  upon  a  seat  said  to  have  once  held  a 
Hindoo  god,  while  Durmont  rushed  to  the  punch- 
bowl standing  near  the  open  fireplace,  arid  brought 
her  a  glass  filled  with  the  cordial. 

She  drank  it,  and  apologized:  "The  heat  of  the 
room  made  me  feel  faint." 

The  weirdness  of  the  decorations,  the  atmosphere 
that  breathed  from  the  ancient  settings,  the  uncanny 
mixture  of  gargoyles  glaring  from  between  draperies 
had  all  affected  the  sensitive  girl-woman.  Her  ex- 
traordinary organization,  which  made  her  wonder- 
ful to  men  and  women  alike,  gave  out  the  same 
magnetic  power  to  auras  of  the  inanimate,  as  well  as 
to  the  animate.  Hitherto  her  mentality  had  grown 
freely,  leaving  her  physically  strong  and  able  to 
control  and  dominate  tliis  unconscious  power. 
Since  the  tragedy  of  Leon  Hartley,  however,  the 
discovery  of  her  own  brother,  the  question  surround- 
ing her  mother's  life — the  freedom  of  which  she  had 
until  now  only  seen  as  beautiful — anxiety,  fear,  and 
grief  had  weakened  her,  until  she  feared  that  the 
surrounding  forces  might  conquer  her.  Then,  too, 
a  black  figure,  unnoticed  by  Durmont,  had  passed 
close  to  them.  Donna  Carima  tried  to  overcome 
the  faintness  of  premonition  which  attacked  her  by 
reason  of  the  gloomy  presence.  She  had  controlled 
herself  for  so  many  days,  however,  that,  when  she 
had  heard  some  one  in  the  ballroom  connect  Nick's 
name  with  the  attack  upon  Brigadier-General  Hart- 
ley, it  had  sent  her  brain  reeling.  No  word  had 


2i4       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

been  received  by  her  from  Nick  since  the  fatal  night, 
when,  upon  discovering  her  mistake,  she  had  tried 
to  return  to  Hartley;  but  Nick  had  lifted  her  in 
his  arms,  placed  her  in  her  carriage,  and  disappeared 
in  the  darkness. 

At  that  moment  she  must  have  lost  consciousness, 
and  could  remember  nothing  more  until  Madame 
Piquero  bending  over  her  couch  had  awakened  her. 
Since  that  night  a  strange  tenderness  had  filled  her 
heart  for  Nick — her  brother  Nicholas — although 
he  had  injured  the  man  she  loved.  If  the  horrible 
charge  were  brought  against  him,  how  easy  it  would 
be  for  his  enemies  to  find  his  whereabouts,  though 
impossible  for  her! 

She  turned,  however,  to  Durmont,  concern  for  her 
lover  overcoming  all  else. 

"How  is  General  Hartley?"  she  asked  anxiously. 

"I  visited  the  General  to-day,  and  saw  him  alone. 
He  is  very  ill,  but  I  believe  he  will  recover.  His  one 
thought  is  to  receive  some  word  from  you.  He  has 
received  pansies  daily,  but  he  is  dying  for  want  of  a 
word.  It  was  all  he  could  speak  of.  May  I  take  it 
to  him?  It  will  do  more  good  than  all  the  doctors 
in  the  land." 

"Tell  me  more,"  she  pleaded.     "  Is  he  sitting  up?" 

"Yes,  propped  by  pillows  and  against  the  doctor's 
orders.  He  said  that  it  was  his  heart  only  that  was 
broken,  and  smiled  as  he  always  does.  He  is  a  brave 
soldier." 

Carima  took  a  ring  of  twisted  dragons  from  her 
finger  and  handed  it  to  Durmont. 

"Give  this  to  him,"  she  whispered,  and  turned  her 
face  away.  "  It  holds  the  charm  of  life." 


THE  SOCIAL  WHIRL  215 

Durmont  crushed  the  emotion  in  his  own  heart,  and 
took  the  ring. 

"The  dancers  will  come  here  presently,  as  the  music 
has  ceased,"  he  suggested  with  assumed  indifference. 
"  Shall  we  stroll  into  the  conservatory?  " 

She  rose,  and  placed  her  hand  gratefully  upon 
his  arm. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT 

A  merry  Cinderella  entered  the  reception-room, 
escorted  by  no  less  a  personage  than  Sir  Walter 
Raleigh.  This  later  Sir  Walter  looked  at  his  com- 
panion and  heaved  a  great  sigh,  after  which  he  re- 
moved his  cloak,  and  with  a  deep  bow  placed  it  upon 
the  costly  rug  before  the  little  lady. 

"  I  know  there  isn't  any  mud  here ;  but  if  you  will 
kindly  walk  across  my  cloak,  it  might  give  me  some 
of  the  old  chap's  luck,"  he  implored. 

Cinderella  tripped  gayly  over  the  velvet  garment, 
raising  her  petticoats  just  enough  to  display  her 
dainty  slipper  and  well-rounded  ankles.  The  young 
man  bowed  gratefully,  and  threw  the  much-honored 
cloak  again  about  his  shoulders. 

"Be  serious,  please,  Ellice,"  he  pleaded,  standing 
before  her.  "Am  I  in  favor — oh — I  mean,  have  I 
a  winning  chance?" 

Ellice  smiled  teasingly. 

"I  can't  tell  any  more  than  before,"  exclaimed 
Tim's  young  voice  desperately;  "the  imp  of  Satan 
is  always  in  your  eyes!" 

"That  is  only  childish  glee,"  laughed  Cinderella. 

"But,  you  are  pretty!"  declared  the  enthusiastic 
masquerader.  "The  color  fairly  dances  in  your 
cheeks." 

216 


THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT  217 

"I'm  glad  it  docs  not  run,  Tim,"  replied  the  irre- 
pressible one. 

"I  do  love  you!"  he  exclaimed  fervently,  almost 
embracing  her. 

"All  men  say  that,"  she  said  laughing,  as  she 
dexterously  avoided  his  intention.  "'You  are  a 
dream/  'I  never  lived  until  I  knew  you,'  or  'You 
have  brought  me  back  to  life,'  or  'I  could  slave  for 
you,'  or  'I  never  knew  what  love  was  until  I  met 
you,'  or,  best  and  most  in  use  and  guaranteed  never 
to  fail, '  You  are  the  first  girl  I  ever  loved.'  There  is 
a  pretty  list,  but  you  must  import  a  new  one,  if  you 
would  win  me,"  concluded  the  girl  gayly. 

"Do  be  serious,  Ellice.  Your  father  approves  of 
me,"  pleaded  Tim;  and  he  continued  eagerly:  "I'm 
not  poor,  and  I'm  rising!" 

"Well,  that  is  in  your  favor,"  smiled  Ellice,  playing 
with  her  fan.  "  But,  then,  I  couldn't  marry  a  poor 
man.  Mrs.  Randolph  gave  me  the  recipe;  it  is  thus: 
'Shun  all  poor  men;  for,  if  you  don't  know  any,  you 
can't  very  well  fall  in  love  with  one.'  ' 

Tim  turned  away  sulkily,  while  Ellice  regarded  the 
back  of  his  fine  blond  head  earnestly. 

"  If  I  could  only  learn  to  love  him,"  she  was  think- 
ing. He  moved  toward  her  again,  determination 
written  on  every  feature,  making  the  boyish  face 
look  suddenly  strong. 

"Ellice,"  he  cried,  "don't  you  think  we  could  be 
very  happy  together?  We  like  the  same  things;  we 
know  the  same  life.  I  would  live  only  to  make  you 
happy." 

He  beamed  upon  her  with  the  enthusiasm  of  youth 
and  love. 


2i8       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Ellice  placed  her  hand  softly  upon  his  arm,  as  she 
answered  sweetly  and  kindly,  too. 

"I  never  cross  a  bridge,  dear,  until  I  come  to  it. 
Come,  let's  dance." 

Tim  caught  her  hand  and  held  it  firmly  in  his  own. 

"  You  are  at  the  bridge  now,  and  you  must  decide. 
If  you  say  'no/  I  shall  keep  on  asking  you  until  you 
say 'yes.'  Will  you  marry  me?  Will  you  marry  me? 
Will  you  marry  me?  Will  you — " 

The  great  moment  was  interrupted,  as  so  often 
happens  in  the  affairs  of  love,  by  a  very  frightened 
young  man  who  burst  through  the  doorway  at  this 
juncture,  followed  by  Prince  Charlie,  who  called 
after  him :  "  What  is  the  matter  with  you,  Jamieson?  " 

"I've  lost  Dora,"  called  back  the  little  minister 
in  a  flurry;  and,  seeing  Cinderella  unmasked,  he 
rushed  toward  her  in  forlorn  hope:  "Oh!  Miss  Court- 
ney, I  have  lost  Dora,"  he  exclaimed  in  miserable 
accents. 

Ellice  smiled  into  Tim's  dejected  face.  "Now,  this 
is  something  truly  serious,"  she  said. 

"But  I  have  really  lost  Dora,"  repeated  Mr. 
Jamieson  in  distress,  his  voice  rising  excitedly,  as 
he  explained:  "We  were  leaving  the  White  House. 
There  was  a  crush.  The  officer  made  me  go  round  one 
side  of  a  pillar  and  Dora  the  other,  and — she  got 
lost!" 

"Terrible!"  sympathized  Ellice.  "The  officer 
couldn't  have  known  who  you  were." 

"But  I  told  him,  I  told  him,"  pleaded  Jamieson. 

"And  did  he  apologize?"  sneered  Tim. 

"No,"  answered  the  ingenuous  Jamieson.  "He 
said,  'he  would  be  d d  if  he  cared!'  He  couldn't 


THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT    219 

have  known  what  he  was  saying.  I  took  a  cab  and 
came  straight  here." 

"Great  presence  of  mind,"  drawled  Prince  Charlie, 
who  had  not  forgotten  his  identity  with  Sir  Charles 
Merriman,  nor  his  faculty  for  overhearing  startling 
news. 

Ellice  looked  at  the  flustered  Jamieson,  then 
smiled.  "Don't  worry  now,  Dora  will  come,"  she 
said  soothingly. 

"I  shan't — now,"  answered  Jamieson,  returning 
her  tender  look.  "It  was  not  that  I  wanted  to  see 
Dora,  but  I  was  afraid  that  she — " 

"Might  think  that  you  ran  off  to  see  me?"  finished 
Ellice  mischievously. 

"Yes,"  answered  the  truthful  James.  "How  did 
you  know?" 

An  excited  Marguerite  now  rushed  upon  the  -scene 
with  an  exclamation  capable  of  many  interpretations, 
and  almost  embraced  the  pious  young  man.  Each 
of  the  group  turned  in  astonishment,  exclaiming; 
"Dora!  Miss  Truesdale!"  but  the  young  lady  was 
intent  upon  her  prey,  and  seemed  oblivious  to  all  else. 

"What  have  you  been  doing,  Mr.  Jamieson?"  she 
demanded. 

"  I  got  lost — I  mean — you  got  lost,  and  I  hurried 
here  to  find  you,  Dora." 

Dora  glanced  suspiciously  at  Ellice.  "Yes,  I 
see  that  you  hurried." 

"Mr.  Jamieson  even  paid  the  'cabby'  something 
extra  to  hurry,"  observed  Ellice,  but  her  auditor  was 
too  engrossed  to  observe  the  dryness  of  her  remark. 

"How  did  you  know?"  asked  the  little  minister 
again,  with  astonished  eyes. 


220       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Sir  Charles,  feeling  the  temperature  rising  at  an 
alarming  rate,  felt  called  upon  to  interfere.  The 
strains  of  a  waltz  inspired  him.  "Will  you  honor 
me  with  this  dance,  Miss  Truesdale?  You  dance  so 
well,"  he  drawled  persuasively. 

Dora  succumbed  to  the  flattery  and,  with  a  re- 
vengeful look  at  little  Mr.  Jamieson,  moved  to 
accept,  when  Ellice  spoke  up  sweetly: 

"Dora  wouldn't  dance  with  any  one  but  Mr. 
Jamieson." 

Miss  Truesdale  blushed,  and  answered  haughtily: 
"Ellice,  Mr.  Jamieson  never  dances.  He  is  too  good 
to  be  frivolous.  He  has  a  conscience." 

Ellice  only  smiled  upon  the  pious  guest.  "You 
would  dance  with  me,"  she  declared  teasingly. 

"Never!"  interposed  Dora,  angrily.  "He  would 
dance  with  me,  if  he  ever  danced,  but  he  never 
will." 

Jamieson  echoed  the  sentiment  with  extreme 
piety:  "Never,  positively  never,"  he  said  firmly. 
"I  am  a  Methodist — my  conscience!  Oh,  never! 
I  would  die  first,  positively  die  first!  You  will 
return  here  after  the  dance?"  he  questioned,  address- 
ing Dora. 

Every  one  looked  a  little  surprised,  even  Miss 
Truesdale,  at  Mr.  Jamieson's  entire  willingness  that 
her  soul  should  be  thus  endangered;  and,  still  trying 
to  explain  it  to  herself,  she  accepted  Sir  Charles's 
proffered  arm  and  moved  toward  the  ballroom. 

Ben  Morton  entered  at  this  moment  and,  seeing 
Ellice,  came  up  to  her  with  a  pleased  smile.  "My 
dance,  I  believe,  fair  Cinderella?"  he  asked  with 
evident  interest. 


THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT    221 

"Pardon  me,"  interrupted  Tim  Brander.  "It  is 
my  dance — by  my  card  " 

Ellicc  shrugged  her  dainty  shoulders,  and  gazed 
scratinizingly  at  her  programme.  "Really,  gentle- 
men," she  laughed  with  fetching  confusion,  "my  card 
is  so  blurred!" 

Tim  held  out  his  hand  for  the  card :  "  I'll  wager  a 
five  spot  there  is  only  one  name  on  it;  for  I  wrote 
it." 

Ben  laughed:  "No  one  could  be  expected  to  read 
it  then,  Brander,"  he  observed,  trying  to  see  Ellice's 
card,  which  she  extended  toward  him  with  innocent 
eyes. 

After  a  moment's  scrutiny,  he  said :  "  Tim  is  right. 
There's  only  one  name  on  it." 

Tim  smiled  complacently,  and  Ben  read  from  the 
card:  "Mr.  Jamieson!" 

The  young  parson  blushed  and  protested:  "Im- 
possible, quite  impossible!" 

Ellice,  undaunted,  looked  upon  the  young  theo- 
logian with  incredulous  surprise.  "You  refuse  to 
acknowledge  your  own  name  in  black  and  white! "  she 
exclaimed,  a  hurt  note  sounding  in  her  voice. 

Poor  Mr.  Jamieson  became  utterly  miserable. 

"But,  really,  I  didn't  do  it.  I  didn't,"  he  pro- 
tested. 

Ben  looked  questioningly  at  Tim,  who  regarded 
Ellice  with  a  hopeless  air,  and  coolly  remarked: 
"It  seems  not." 

The  young  girl  drew  herself  up  with  overwhelming 
dignity.  "Do  you  charge  me  with  forgery,  sir?" 
she  demanded,  glaring  at  the  little  man,  who  still 
stuttered  violently. 


222       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"No,  no — not  at  all;  I — I — never — never  had 
— such — such  an — in — ini — iniquitous  thought.  I — " 

Ben  saw  the  ruse,  and  turned  upon  the  poor  de- 
fendant. "Then  you  admit  writing  it?"  he  pur- 
sued. "Waltz,  Mr.  Jamieson;  Quadrille,  Mr.  Jamie- 
son;  Polka,  Mr. — ' 

"Oh,  horrible!"  cried  the  flustered  aspirant  to  the 
pulpit.  "I  never  dance;  my  conscience  won't 
permit  me.  Ask  Dora!" 

Apparently  Ellice  was  consumed  with  sudden 
pity,  which  might  or  might  not  be  serious.  She 
stepped  forward  and,  taking  the  little  man's  arm  by 
way  of  sympathetic  defence,  said  sweetly:  "Then 
we  will  promenade." 

"What's  promenade?"  asked  Jamieson  drawing 
back  suspiciously. 

"Walking  with  a  man  to  music,"  explained  Cin- 
derella gayly. 

Jamieson  looked  relieved.  Walking  was  not 
against  the  tenets  of  his  Church.  "  I  don't  see  any 
harm  in  that,"  he  murmured  apologetically  to  his 
conscience.  "To  music?" 

Ellice  waved  her  hand  to  her  dejected  knights  in 
waiting.  "Bye-by,  fair  gentlemen,"  she  laughed. 
"If  you  see  Dora,  don't  mention  us — I  mean  me!" 

She  replaced  her  mask,  and  they  entered  the  large 
hall  leading  to  the  ballroom. 

"A  mask  is  not  much  use,"  she  said,  as  she  took 
Jamieson's  unproffered  arm,  "everybody  knows  me, 
just  the  same." 

The  little  minister  began  the  list  of  questions 
which  comprised  his  usual  conversation: 

"Do  you  love  music,  Miss  Courtney?"  he  asked, 


THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT   223 

wondering  what  he  should  say  to  her  next,  and 
what  she  would  do  to  him. 

"No,"  Ellice  replied  quickly.  Jamieson  looked 
astonished.  "But  my  feet  do,"  she  added,  watch- 
ing his  expression  with  sly  amusement. 

Mr.  Jamieson,  despite  his  piety,  began  to  feel  the 
girl's  attractiveness  and  to  forget  his  fears. 

"How  unique!"  he  remarked.  "Your  conversa- 
tion is  so  brilliant.  It  goes  to  my  head." 

"It  always  goes  to  the  weakest  spot,  my  dear," 
smiled  Ellice  sweetly. 

Mr.  Jamieson  realized  the  term  of  endearment 
only.  It  gave  him  courage. 

"Miss  Courtney,"  he  began;  then  continued 
timidly :  "  Why — why  was  that  mistake  about  your 
programme?" 

Ellice  looked  up  with  twinkling  eyes;  then  she 
turned  to  her  sorry  partner,  and  said  meekly,  "It 
was  such  a  temptation  to  dance  with  you." 

"Was  it  really?"  he  asked,  softening  perceptibly. 

"Um,  h'm,"  she  nodded  her  curly  head  in  answer; 
"an  awful  temptation,  and  you  knew  the  true 
definition  of  the  word  'temptation'?" 

"What  is  it?  'Get  thee  behind  me,  Satan!'" 
quoted  the  pious  young  man. 

"No,  no,"  corrected  Ellice.  "He  might  push  you! 
Temptation  is  what  we  succumb  to — isn't  it?"  she 
laughed  merrily  upon  him.  He  opened  his  mouth 
several  times  to  speak,  but  could  think  of  nothing 
severe  enough  by  way  of  reply. 

"Come,  here  is  our  waltz!"  She  jumped  up  from 
the  seat  where  he  would  have  installed  her  as  a  dis- 
satisfied wallflower,  and  pulled  him  after  her,  before 


224       THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

he  had  time  to  protest.  "Come!"  she  commanded, 
with  such  a  bewitching  smile  that  he  was  beginning  to 
wonder  if  her  definition  were  not  right. 

"  But  my  friends  would  never  forgive  me,"  he  argued. 

She  placed  his  arm  around  her  waist.  "  Your  friends 
are  a  long  way  off — in  Kansas,"  she  whispered 
coaxingly. 

"Well,  I  will  just  take  one  step — one  little  step." 

"Not  on  the  toe  of  my  slipper,  please,"  she  ob- 
served dryly. 

Mr.  Jamieson  made  another  attempt.  "  It  was  an 
error  of  judgment,  Miss  Ellice." 

"The  waltz  is  'Love's  First  Step/ "  cooed  Ellice 
dreamily. 

"'Love's  First  Step,'"  repeated  Mr.  Jamieson, 
yielding  to  the  dream  also,  when  a  horrified  cry 
rent  the  air  and  ended  the  dance. 

"Mr.  Jamieson!  What  in  the  world  are  you 
doing?" 

It  was  Dora.  No  one  else  had  anything  to  say. 
Mr.  Jamieson's  arm  fell  from  Miss  Courtney's  waist. 
The  irate  young  Marguerite  turned  upon  Ellice,  the 
temptress! 

"What  do  you  mean?"  she  demanded  in  shrill 
angry  tones,  "  by  teaching  Mr.  Jamieson  such  things? 
You  know  his  conscience  is  very  firm." 

"Yes,"  said  Ellice  sadly,  "most  men's  are,  Dora, 
dear." 

"Ellice  Courtney,  you  have  led  Mr.  Jamieson 
astray,"  challenged  tMiss  Truesdale  with  proprie- 
tary interest. 

Ellice  laughed.  "He  was  led  easily,  my  dear," 
she  answered  sweetly. 


THE  DIVERSIONS  OF  A  FLIRT    225 

Dora  continued,  now  fully  aroused:  "You  are 
shutting  the  doors  of  Heaven  on  him!" 

"He  will  be  where  I  can  console  him  then,"  replied 
Ellice,  laughing  despite  herself;  but  an  instant  later 
she  regretted  her  fun,  when  she  realized  that  what 
to  her  was  but  a  moment's  amusement  might  mean 
sorrow  to  another. 

Dora  looked  about  in  feminine  fury,  and  when 
her  eyes  rested  again  on  Ellice,  they  filled  with  tears 
of  anger.  She  started  to  speak;  but,  unable  to  con- 
trol herself,  hurried  away  and  ran  up  the  stairs. 

Ellice  was  truly  grieved.  She  turned  to  Mr. 
Jamicson,  and  motioned  him  to  follow ;  but  Brother 
Jamieson  was  so  hopeless  that  she  was  forced  to 
whisper  encouragement. 

"  Go,  run  after  her  and  tell  her  you  did  it  to  make 
her  jealous!  Try  that  apology.  It  faileth  never!" 

There  was  a  second's  hesitation;  then  the  little 
minister  also  disappeared  in  Dora's  direction. 

Mr.  Jamieson  now  realized  temptation;  he,  too, 
had  fallen! 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW 

Only  those  who  knew  the  house  seemed  to  find 
their  way  to  the  quaint  Turkish  room  and,  conse- 
quently, its  lavish  punch  bowl  now  stood  sadly  con- 
templating the  empty  surroundings.  Its  discontent, 
however,  was  at  length  annulled  by  the  entrance  of 
two  persons.  They  were  unmasked  and  easily  rec- 
ognized as  Michael  Damion  and  Viola  Dias. 

After  filling  a  glass  and  presenting  it  to  the  pro- 
fessional beauty,  the  sculptor  filled  and  raised  his 
own. 

"To  love,  who  is  Viola;  and  Viola,  who  is  love!" 
he  said,  regarding  her  with  an  adoring  gaze,  which 
seemed  to  envelop  her  like  a  cloud. 

"Why  do  people  always  toast  and  talk  and  sing 
and  write  of  love?  They  make  it  commonplace," 
she  remarked,  sipping  her  punch  thoughtfully,  and 
still  mirroring  her  reflection  in  his  eyes. 

"It  is  the  only  thing  that  teaches  us  to  compre- 
hend God,"  answered  Michael  Damion  poetically. 

"Love  is  easy  when  we  are  young  and  full  of  en- 
thusiasm," continued  Viola  smiling.  "It  is  the  love 
that  lasts,  which  follows  us  to  the  grave,  not  to  the 
altar,  that  is  really  love." 

The  sculptor  regarded  her  sadly.  "Youth  and 
success  are  a  splendid  combination,"  he  said.  "At 

226 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW  227 

twenty  I  had  to  work  to  make  a  living,  and  when  I 
returned  at  night  my  brain  was  numb.  I  was  forced 
to  crush  out  the  sweet  images  of  art,  and  bargain  and 
haggle  with  the  world,  just  to  get  bread  for  myself 
and  home;  for  I  was  the  only  son  of  a  widow." 

"Write  it  in  verse  and  have  it  set  to  music," 
lisped  the  girl,  with  worldly  sympathy.  "It  is  the 
case  with  so  many;  it  would  'take.'  I  will  sing  it 
maybe,  if  you  will  write  it,"  she  smiled. 

" Can  you  sing  as  well  as  act?"  asked  the  man  with 
admiration. 

"Yes,  I  sing  just  about  as  well  as  I  act,"  answered 
the  player  with  whimsical  humor. 

"You  are  too  sweet  to  remain  in  your  present 
profession,"  declared  Damion.  "  You  are  wearing  out 
your  health  and  brain." 

"  Yes,"  assented  the  actress.  "  Madame  Bernhardt 
says  we  have  no  consolation  for  being  an  actress  in 
this  country  of  long  distances.  Still,  hard  as  it  is, 
it  is  fascinating,  interesting  work." 

"The  end  of  the  actor's  life  is  often  so  pitiful. 
The  world  laughs  with  him,  but  he  weeps  so  utterly 
alone!" 

"Yes,  but  it  is  the  same  with  every  one;  the  world 
drinks  with  us,  but  we  pay — alone." 

The  man  replaced  the  girl's  punch  cup  with  a  sigh. 

He  presented  his  arm  to  his  fair  partner,  and  the 
two  strolled  out  again,  leaving  the  punch  bowl  to  its 
reflections.  These  were  soon  interrupted,  however, 
by  the  entrance  of  the  wearer  of  the  rose  domino, 
who  approached  cautiously  and  searched  the  sur- 
roundings with  alert,  eager  eyes.  A  sigh  of  relief 
escaped  the  newcomer  when  she  found  the  room  vacant. 


228       THE   GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

Donna  Carima,  the  lady  in  rose,  glided  quickly 
across  to  the  great  fireplace,  and  rested  her  head 
wearily  against  the  mantel.  She  regarded  the 
artificial  log,  blazing  for  effect  only.  Despite  its 
warmth,  her  hands  grew  cold,  for  an  awful  fear  had 
taken  possession  of  her. 

"  Nick — Leon — Nick — Leon — Leon  —  Nick,"  con- 
tinued to  throb  upon  her  ears  and  in  her  heart.  She 
was  beginning  to  distrust  even  her  own  self  now. 

"  I  must  go  home,"  she  decided.  "  I  had  better  go. 
Yes,  no  one  will  notice  my  departure  now." 

Carima  had  determined  to  carry  her  thought  into 
effect,  when  she  again  felt  the  presence  of  some  one 
near  her,  and  a  shudder  crept  over  her  beautiful 
white  shoulders,  from  which  she  had  thrown  back 
the  domino,  as  for  air.  She  feared  to  turn  her  head, 
but  what  did  she  fear?  She  forced  courage  to  her 
support,  and  turned  slowly  toward  the  figure  which 
stood  regarding  her.  This  time,  however,  it  was 
only  the  great  poet,  Master  William  Shakespeare, 
who  haunted  her  steps.  A  little  smile  of  relief  and 
self-scorn  broke  across  her  lips. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked,  smiling  also. 

"  Just  a  woman.  Who  are  you?  "  she  asked  coldly, 
wondering  still  how  she  could  leave  without  attracting 
attention. 

"Just  a  man,"  the  poet  replied. 

"Which  man?"  she  asked,  her  thought  ever  upon 
the  one  man  in  all  the  world  for  her. 

"A  man  who  tells  the  loves  of  other  men.  My 
name  is  Master  Shakespeare,"  he  said  profoundly, 
"  born  on  the  banks  of  the  Avon,  some  three  hundred 
years  ago,  and  reared  on  the  banks  of  the  world." 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW  229 

"You  are  older  than  I,"  she  suggested,  laughing 
nervously. 

"Perhaps,"  he  said  dryly. 

"  You  are  married?"  Donna  Carima  asked. 

He  sighed  and  said :  "  I  have  a  wife  at  home.  Her 
name  is  Anne.  What  is  yours?  "  he  asked  with  interest. 

"  I  am  a  woman  beloved  much  and  yet  loveless," 
Donna  Carima  replied. 

"And  I  told  you  I  had  a  wife,"  insisted  Master 
Shakespeare  with  equal  sadness. 

"Could  you  love  another?"  she  inquired  curiously. 

"I  told  you  I  was  a  man,"  Shakespeare  said,  again 
trying  with  a  man's  perversion  to  look  into  her  eyes. 

"Have  you  ever  loved  another?"  she  questioned. 

"I  told  you  I  was  a  man,"  he  repeated. 

"How  did  you  learn  to  write  plays?" 

"I  once  knew  a  girl  at  Oxford  Tavern,  where  I 
often  tarried  for  ale  and  sleep,  the  sweet  restorer." 

"Yes,  and  who  was  the  woman?"  Donna  Carima 
interrupted. 

"She  was  a  bar-maid,"  Shakespeare  replied,  with 
a  loving  sigh. 

"She  brought  you  drink?" 

"And  life!"  he  smiled  contentedly. 

"She  never  travelled  then,"  suggested  Donna  Ca- 
rima, wondering  if  the  man  before  her  might  be 
covering  an  aching  heart  by  Master  Shakespeare's 
soothing  mantle,  but  the  would-be  bard  revealed  not 
his  sub-conscious  self. 

"The  great  travellers  scarcely  leave  the  hearth- 
stones of  their  homes.  Their  fancy  wanders  the 
streets  and  cities  of  the  stars,"  he  declared,  with 
conviction. 


230      THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

"And  where  did  your  lady  travel  with  you?"  the 
lady  in  rose  inquired. 

"  The  paths  of  the  lips,  the  by-ways  of  the  heart, 
lighted  with  wit,  mellowed  by  humor,  enchanted  by 
fancy,  sweetened  by  love,"  he  replied  with  feeling. 

"And  the  young  daughters  and  the  son  at  home?" 
she  queried  wistfully. 

Shakespeare  grew  reflective.  "There  are  laws  of 
God,  as  well  as  laws  of  man,  sweet  lady!" 

Donna  Carima  looked  up  at  him  mockingly  this 
time,  and  asked:  "Then  why  didn't  you  have  one 
of  your  heroines  married  and  explain  a  way  out  of  it, 
so  that  true  love  could  run  smoothly  without  a  divorce 
scandal?  We  can't  find  a  way  nowadays;  but 
you  might  have  taught  us,  as  your  plays  always  have 
morals." 

He  only  laughed,  and  made  answer:  "Marriage  is 
the  rat-trap  of  life.  I  trust  you'll  never  feel  its  bars, 
fair  lady." 

"Poor  Master  Shakespeare,  marriage  should  be 
sweet  bondage." 

She  floated  up  to  the  punch  bowl  in  quite  a  modern 
fashion  on  the  arm  of  the  old-time  bard. 

"Tell  me,"  continued  the  perfect  lips,  vainly 
trying  to  conceal  their  effort,  for  she  felt  a  sickening 
fear  again  creep  over  her.  "  Was  your  Hamlet  mad 
or  did  he  only  'play  the  game'  ?" 

For  the  moment  the  bard  was  stunned;  but  he 
braced  himself  with  sufficient  punch,  and  confessed : 
"Well,  I  don't  know.  Truthfully,  I  never  wrote 
Hamlet.  I  gave  the  idea  to  Bacon,  as  I  was  busy." 

A  black  figure  which  had  haunted  Donna  Carima's 
steps  and  imagination  during  the  evening  entered 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW  231 

and  drew  near.  His  drooping  black  domino,  small 
sku^-like  cap,  and  dreary  mien  suggested  the  Danish 
prince.  With  a  nervous  nod  toward  the  gloomy 
intruder,  she  said:  "He  must  imagine  he  represents 
your  Hamlet;  but  I  secretly  hope  your — I  beg  your 
pardon,  Bacon's  poor  Dane — was  never  truly  so 
wretched  to  look  upon."  The  girl  laughed,  but  a 
cold  shiver  passed  over  her. 

"Step  back  and  let  me  offer  him  some  punch  to 
drown  his  loneliness,"  she  cried.  "Perhaps  he  will 
tell  me  who  wrote  him!"  She  wondered  vaguely  why 
she  had  uttered  the  words;  yet  something  beyond 
her  ken  seemed  forcing  her  toward  the  dark  figure  hi 
waiting. 

The  bard  rilled  his  cup,  bowed,  and  obeyed.  Donna 
Carima  held  her  glass  daintily  to  the  man  hi  black 
before  her;  for  he  had  moved  quickly  to  her  side,  as 
her  companion  stepped  away. 

"We  apologize,  Sir  Sorrow,"  she  began,  with  a 
gasp  in  her  breath,  "  that  we  lack  the  cup  of  skull  in 
which  to  offer  you  rare  cordial;  but  would  you  be  so 
human  as  to  accept  our  little  offerings?" 

The  Prince  of  Denmark  took  the  cup  and  whispered : 
"It  is  I — Nick!  For  God's  sake,  see  me  a  moment 
alone,  or  I  shall  go  mad!" 

Donna  Carima  caught  weakly  at  the  table  for  sup- 
port. She  realized  the  purport  of  his  words. 

"  I  felt  it,"  she  gasped.   "  Why  did  you  come  back?  " 

"I  had  to  know  the  truth  from  you — from  you!" 
Nick  whispered  hoarsely. 

"Await  me  here,"  was  the  only  audible  answer 
from  Donna  Carima's  lips. 

Shakespeare's  curiosity  was  unpardonable  in  the 


232       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

all-knowing  Father  of  Intellect.  He  observed  the 
scene  from  a  polite  distance  for  a  moment  only ;  then 
he  moved  almost  rudely  between  them.  The  lady 
covered  her  distress,  however,  with  the  lightest 
laugh. 

"Your  Hamlet  refuses  to  drink!"  she  cried  hys- 
terically, to  conceal  her  emotion,  "  unless  we  furnish 
him  with  skull  cups!  He  mocks  me  when  I  ask  his 
name.  Come!  William  Shakespeare,  you  and  I 
have  lived  too  long  and  seen  too  much  to  waste  our 
precious  time  upon  the  surly.  Come!  Come!  I 
say,"  and  she  swept  with  the  Bard  of  Avon  out  of 
the  room. 

Nicholas  Worthington  watched  them  disappear. 
Then  he  hurriedly  swallowed  the  punch  which  she 
had  given  him,  and  crossed  the  room  to  the  corner 
where  a  Turkish  seat  was  built,  lighted  by  a  large  red 
globe  only  which  shed  soft  effective  light  upon  the 
surrounding  Oriental  settings.  He  sat  waiting  for 
what  seemed  to  him  an  eternity,  but  was  in  reality 
a  few  minutes  only.  Donna  Carima  with  flushed 
and  anxious  face  reentered  the  room  and,  glancing 
cautiously  around,  ran  to  where  the  young  man  sat. 

"Oh,  my  poor  boy!"  she  half-sobbed.  "Where 
have  you  been?  Where  have  you  been?" 

Nicholas  clasped  his  hands  together  with  a  pitiful 
sigh ;  then  he  smiled  upon  his  sister  hungrily. 

"I  stayed  in  Chinatown  until  this  morning,  when 
I  heard  two  urchins  talking  of  this  ball  outside  my 
door,  in  the  horrible  hole  where  I  had  hidden."  He 
shuddered,  then  continued:  "I  was  afraid  to  go  out 
by  day,  but  to-night  I  crept  away  for  the  first  time, 
and  found  a  place  where  I  bought  this."  He 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW  233 

touched  his  coarse  domino  to  indicate  his  meaning. 
"I  was  determined  to  know  the  truth  to-night  from 
you,  or ' 

"Hush!"  Donna  Carima  whispered,  suddenly  real- 
izing his  danger.  She  glanced  around,  and  saw  the 
guests  returning  from  the  supper-room.  But  Nick's 
desperation  had  carried  him  beyond  fear. 

"  Great  God !  tell  me  if  it  is  true,"  he  cried.  "  Tell 
me,  or  I'll  go  mad — mad!  Do  you  understand? 
Mad!" 

The  sister  rose  in  agitation. 

"Don't  talk  so  loudly,"  she  implored.  "They 
will  discover  you  here.  Oh,  it's  too  terrible!" 

Her  voice  ended  in  an  agonized  moan,  as  she 
noticed  his  unfastened  domino,  and,  with  terror 
dilating  her  eyes,  hastened  to  re-hook  it.  He  wore 
the  suit  of  two  weeks  previous,  no  vest,  a  soiled 
shirt,  without  collar  or  necktie.  He  saw  Carima's 
horror  at  the  sight,  and  with  a  hoarse  laugh  tore  off 
his  mask  as  well. 

"Look  at  that,  too,"  he  commanded,  protruding  his 
head  and  face,  with  a  convulsed  grin  upon  it.  The 
once  handsome  young  countenance,  famous  for  its 
smile  and  charm,  was  now  before  her  drawn  and 
haggard;  yet  from  its  deathly  whiteness  glared  his 
still  splendid  eyes,  but  with  a  strange  gleam  of  the 
unreal  glowing  in  them.  His  hoarse  laugh  sent  a 
convulsive  shudder  to  twinge  her  spine,  as  she 
stared  speechless  upon  him.  With  a  woman's  quick 
perception,  however,  she  raised  her  arms  and,  draw- 
ing him  down  into  the  seat  beside  them,  whispered: 

"Dear  Nick,  we  cannot  change  the  mysteries  of 
life.  You  will  be  calm  for  my  sake,  won't  you?" 


234      THE   GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

Her  voice  seemed  to  fascinate  him,  for  his  gaze 
never  left  her  face.  Gently  Donna  Carima  replaced 
his  mask.  His  hatred  of  her  seemed  to  have  faded 
into  an  emotion  of  the  past,  and  he  clung  to  her 
hands  now,  but  otherwise  sat  silent.  Her  fears 
subsided  with  his  sudden  calmness. 

At  length  he  seemed  to  realize  and  asked  more 
quietly: 

"It  isn't  true,  is  it,  about — my  mother?" 

Donna  Carima  hesitated. 

She  had  been  taught  that  the  truth  was  the  best 
always.  Still,  she  hesitated.  She  looked  at  him 
hi  doubt,  but  her  fears  for  his  sanity  had  for  the 
moment  vanished. 

"Yes,  dear,"  she  answered,  "it  is  true." 

He  dropped  her  hand  and  again  glared  at  her,  his 
eyes  gradually  gathering  their  former  terrible  light. 

"Damn  her!"  he  muttered.  As  a  bursting  storm- 
cloud,  the  curse  seemed  to  fill  the  room. 

Donna  Carima  pressed  one  hand  across  Nick's 
quivering  lips,  and  with  the  other  smoothed  back  his 
curls. 

"Please  don't,  dear;  please  be  calm,"  she  whis- 
pered, and  again  he  was  silent. 

A  feminine  voice  interrupted  and  sent  waves  of 
fear  through  Donna  Carima.  Two  men  and  a  girl 
had  entered  the  room.  The  latter  was  speaking: 

"I  wonder  who  it  is?"  asked  the  lady,  masquerad- 
ing as  Carmen. 

"What?"  queried  her  attentive  cavalier,  alias  Mr. 
Pickwick. 

"Why,  Mrs.  Randolph  is  asking  every  one  to  un- 
mask. There  has  been  a  suspicious  person  here 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW    235 

They  think  to  uncover  some  political  intrigue!  But 
come  on;  there  is  the  music!"  and  the  lady  and 
her  escort  departed  with  as  little  ceremony  as  they 
had  evinced  in  entering. 

Donna  Carima  sprang  to  her  feet,  despair  closing 
around  her  heart!  She  feared  that  Senator  Trues- 
dale,  with  his  great  cunning,  had  discovered  Nick's 
presence,  and  had  ordered  his  spies  to  set  this  gossip 
afloat.  If  such  was  to  be  his  revenge  upon  her, 
mighty  it  would  be! 

She  tried  the  door  at  the  right  of  them. 

"Where  does  this  lead?"  she  asked  excitedly. 

"My  study,"  Nick  answered,  with  far-away  in- 
difference. 

"Is  it  locked?"  Donna  Carima  cried. 

"Yes." 

"Where  is  the  key?" 

"By  the  desk  in  the  library." 

"Across  the  hall?" 

"Yes." 

"I  must  get  it.  Is  this  the  only  entrance?"  she 
asked,  returning  to  his  side,  and  glancing  fearfully 
about. 

"No,  the  other  is  hi  the  hall." 

Indifferent  to  the  situation  or  the  meaning  of  her 
questions,  Nick's  eyes  still  followed  Carima  only, 
but  Carima's  eyes  searched  the  room  in  desperation. 

"They  may  see  you  here!"  she  cried.  "0  God, 
guide  me!"  Praying  inaudibly,  she  rushed  to  the 
electric  switch.  She  turned  it  off,  then  on  again. 

"No,  they  would  wonder  at  the  darkness  of  the 
entire  room,"  she  murmured,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  the 
red  globe  which  lighted  the  alcove  where  he  sat. 


236       THE  GIRL  IN    QUESTION 

With  sudden  strength,  given  by  desperate  impulse, 
she  sprang  upon  the  Turkish  seat,  and,  raising  her 
arms,  crushed  the  great  hanging  lamp  with  her 
hands,  and,  as  quickly,  twisted  off  the  electric  light 
within  its  shattered  globe.  Nick  sat  in  darkness. 
She  whispered  a  word  of  courage  to  him,  and  hurried 
away  in  search  of  the  key,  wrapping  the  end  of  her 
mantilla  around  her  burnt  and  bleeding  hand. 

As  chance  would  have  it,  several  of  the  guests  nad 
already  decided  to  depart  and  were  mounting  the 
stairs  near  the  entrance  to  the  Turkish  room.  Others 
also  seemed  at  this  inopportune  moment  to  have  dis- 
covered the  quaint  nook;  for  when  Donna  Carima 
reentered  she  found  the  draped  entrance  almost 
blocked  with  people.  She  forced  her  way  through, 
however,  pretending  to  search  for  some  one. 

As  she  again  reached  Nick's  side,  a  bell  rang  to 
command  attention,  and  Count  Flambeau's  foreign 
accent  floated  to  Donna  Carima's  ears : 

"  Our  hostess  asks  me  to  announce  that,  according 
to  custom,  the  guests  will  now  unmask  before  the 
final  quadrille." 

Donna  Carima  heard  no  more,  but,  with  quick 
determined  steps,  she  reached  the  outer  stairway,  as 
the  Count  finished  speaking.  The  wine  of  excitement 
warmed  her  veins,  and  she  sprang  wildly  upon  the 
first  step  before  them  all. 

"Friends!"  she  cried,  affecting  almost  fiercely  a 
strong  Spanish  accent,  "  I  have  had  such  a  delightful 
evening  that  I  transgress  the  bonds  of  hospitality, 
and  beg  we  dance  once  after  an  old  Spanish  cus- 
tom before  we  unmask!  The  men,  having  had 
hitherto  the  choice  of  partners,  now  give  the  girls  a 


WHAT  THE  PUNCH  BOWL  SAW    237 

chance!  Every  lady  choose  her  partner,  and  see  who 
reaches  the  ballroom  first!" 

A  burst  of  applause,  which  startled  her  by  its 
unexpected  answer,  echoed  through  the  rooms  at 
the  strange  audacity  of  her  novel  suggestion  and 
words.  Being  a  foreign  woman,  the  boldness  was 
enjoyed  and  approved. 

Donna  Cariina  fearlessly  suited  the  action  to  the 
word,  and  dashed  through  the  room  before  the  ad- 
miring and  unsuspecting  guests,  as  though  searching 
for  the  chosen  partner  of  her  whim,  until  she  came  to 
Nick.  She  threw  her  arms  around  his  drooping 
form  which  clung  indifferently  to  her,  and,  by 
supreme  will-power,  fairly  dragged  him  after  her. 

The  musicians  caught  her  spirit,  and,  without 
direction,  a  lively  waltz  filled  the  rooms  and,  for  the 
moment,  drowned  all  comment.  Ladies,  even  in 
wraps,  arrayed  for  departure,  seized  likewise  depart- 
ing partners,  in  a  renewal  of  the  joyous,  gay,  unex- 
pected festivity !  Indeed,  almost  a  bacchanalian  con- 
fusion followed  the  magic  of  Donna  Carima's  words. 
Laughter,  chatter,  dancing  figures  made  the  old 
mansion  again  a  seat  of  momentary  revelry. 

"Dance!"  she  cried.  " Dance, dance,  as  though  you 
loved  it!  Dance!  dance!  dance!" 

The  thrill  of  her  voice  forced  Nick  to  rouse  himself 
sufficiently  to  make  his  feet  follow  hers.  Those  who 
saw  laughed  at  her  choice  of  partner.  They  could 
not  see  the  tragedy  in  her  heart. 

"Courage,"  she  whispered,  as  they  turned  down 
the  hallway. 

Carima  and  her  brother  passed  a  couple  strolling 
along,  but,  when  screened  from  view,  she  inserted 


238       THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

the  key  and,  opening  the  door  to  Nick's  study,  fairly 
pushed  him  into  the  room  and,  as  quickly,  closed  it 
after.  An  angry  cry  of  protest  greeted  her  from 
within,  but  she  turned  the  lock  and  withdrew  the 
key. 

"I  will  return  later.  Be  brave!"  she  whispered, 
and,  moving  quickly  from  the  study  door,  leaned 
against  the  wall. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

POLITICS  OR  LOVE? 

When  Donna  Carima  recovered  herself,  the  last 
strain  of  the  dance  was  dying.  The  guests  were 
wondering  what  it  all  had  meant.  She  turned  the 
knob  and  opened  the  door  of  the  library,  for  the 
purpose  of  replacing  the  key.  Had  she  been  capable 
of  feeling  further  emotion,  the  scene  before  her 
eyes  would  have  at  least  startled  her,  but  no  ex- 
pression of  amazement  escaped  her.  She  paused 
unnoticed,  looking  upon  a  strange  gathering  of 
unfriendly  men. 

The  War  Secretary  stood  by  his  desk,  pale  and 
dignified.  Senator  Truesdale  and  apparently  a  Con- 
gressional committee  were  facing  him.  Leon  Hartley 
alone  held  a  place  at  the  Secretary's  side.  His  white 
face  and  haggard  appearance  racked  Carima's  heart 
with  tender  pain. 

Truesdale  was  speaking,  but  his  words  made  no 
impression  upon  Donna  Carima,  until  the  sentence, 
"  The  committee  on  military  affairs  will  be  in  council 
on  the  evidence  to-night,"  seemed  faintly  to  revive 
her  faculties.  Even  then  the  illness  of  her  lover 
meant  far  more  to  her  than  the  great  import  of  the 
spoken  words.  How  brave,  how  recklessly  noble  of 
Hartley  to  rise  from  a  sick-bed  to  be  present  in  time 
of  need!  Her  soul  seemed  to  go  out  to  him,  in  a  mad 

239 


24o      THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

desire  for  his  love.  Her  eyes  rested  joyously  upon 
his  fine,  colorless  face  and  godlike  head. 

"Then  you  have  come  to  trade?"  asked  the 
Secretary,  controlling  his  anger  and  speaking  quietly. 
"What  is  the  nature  of  the  charge  against  me?" 

"Bribery!"  the  Senator  replied  promptly,  with  a 
peculiar  droop  of  his  gleaming  eyes.  "  You  are  guilty 
of  accepting  bribes  in  office,  sir;  and  you  will  be 
under  impeachment  for  the  same  if — I  say  the  word." 

The  Secretary  trembled  with  suppressed  indigna- 
tion, but  he  spoke  in  a  firm,  clear  voice,  and  with 
pitiful  dignity:  "What  is  the  nature  of  the  bribes  I 
am  accused  of  taking?" 

"$4,000  for  a  captaincy;  $5,000  for  two  majors; 
$3,000  for  a  lieutenancy!" 

Truesdale  stepped  forward  and  presented  the  papers 
to  the  Secretary  of  War,  one  by  one,  as  he  explained, 
with  extravagant  courtesy: 

"The  bill  of  particulars  will  show  all,  sir." 

The  Secretary  took  the  papers,  glanced  over  them, 
and  sunk  into  a  chair. 

"I  am  ruined,"  he  muttered  hoarsely.  No  one 
could  contradict  him.  There  was  a  moment  of 
tragic  suspense. 

Leon  Hartley  stepped  forward  and  broke  the  awful 
silence. 

"Pardon  me,"  he  said,  "but  it  is  not  your  ruin, 
Mr.  Secretary." 

Every  one  turned  upon  the  speaker. 

"What!"  they  exclaimed  almost  in  a  body,  for 
they  were  moved  as  one  man  by  the  tension  of  interest. 

"It  is  true,"  continued  Hartley,  "bribes  have  been 
taken  in  this  house—" 


POLITICS  OR   LOVE?  241 

"Leon!"  almost  shouted  the  Secretary;  but  Sen- 
ator Truesdale  with  a  malicious  smile  came  a  step 
forward : 

"The  House  of  Representatives  has  the  honor  to 
agree  with  you,  General.  You  will  be  an  excellent 
witness,  sir." 

The  War  Secretary  sprang  to  his  feet,  his  eyes 
bright  with  uncontrollable  anger. 

"Senator!"  he  cried,  his  old-time  impressive  dig- 
nity returning  under  fire.  "You  are  dealing  with 
me  only,  sir.  I  am  still  the  Secretary  of  War!" 
Then  he  turned  upon  Hartley,  his  friend,  and 
d(  MI  landed:  "  What  do  you  mean,  sir?" 

The  General  did  not  immediately  answer,  and  the 
Secretary  again  spoke.  "  I  demand  an  explanation, 
sir,"  he  said,  looking  anxiously  at  the  young  man 
who  had  held  his  confidence  so  long. 

"I  will  be  ready  with  it,  Mr.  Secretary,  at  the 
trial,"  Hartley  replied,  with  eyes  averted  from  his 
benefactor  who  was  now  regarding  him  with  heart- 
breaking reproach  and  disappointment. 

He  drew  himself  up  with  ill-concealed  effort 
at  self-control,  and  answered  in  a  faint  voice,  weak 
from  suffering: 

"I  am  subject  to  your  orders,  Mr.  Secretary."  He 
hesitated  a  moment,  then  continued:  "The  bribes 
charged  were  taken,  the  officers  received  their  com- 
missions; but  it  was  not  the  Secretary  of  War  who 
knew  or  benefited  by  the  sales.  It  may  have  been 
myself,  Leon  Hartley,  who  has  erred." 

"You!"  gasped  the  Secretary. 

Hartley  held  his  ground  manfully,  however,  while 
all  the  men  gazed  in  astonishment  upon  him. 
16 


242       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Notwithstanding  the  showers  of  glory  which  had 
fallen  upon  Carima  Astrados  and  would  again  fall, 
this  was  the  proudest  moment  she  ever  experienced. 
To  doubt  her  lover  never  suggested  itself  to  her;  but, 
inspired  by  the  heroism  which  he  presented,  she  was 
confident  that  in  some  unseen  way  right  would  con- 
quer, and  she  stood  thinking— thinking. 

Senator  Truesdale  interrupted  the  painful  silence. 

"You  accuse  yourself!"  he  exclaimed.  "A  pretty 
story,  worthy  of  a  faithful  dog — to  save  his  bene- 
factor." 

The  young  General  took  one  step  forward,  his  eyes 
fixed  angrily  upon  the  irate  Senator,  when  the  low 
commanding  voice  of  a  woman  caused  every  one 
present  to  turn.  Ignoring  the  gasp  of  wonder  which 
greeted  her,  Donna  Carima  stepped  further  into  the 
room. 

"If  I  am  cognizant  of  this  case — "  she  began. 

"  But  you  are  not,"  cried  Senator  Truesdale  with 
a  triumphant  smile.  " How  could  you  be?" 

"If  lam  cognizant  of  this  case,,  sir,"  repeated 
Donna  Carima  more  emphatically,  "you  have  made 
a  serious  mistake,  Senator." 

The  girl  looked  a  queen  verily,  as  she  regarded 
the  committee  led  by  Truesdale,  whose  expression 
changed  slowly  to  apprehension  of  the  woman, 
rather  than  of  the  situation. 

"In  what  way,  pray?"  he  asked,  quickly  crossing 
the  long  room  to  where  she  stood  apart.  He  had 
things  to  say  to  her  that  he  preferred  others  should 
not  hear. 

She  drew  a  folded  paper  from  the  intricate  laces 
of  her  bodice,  opened  it,  and  moved  close  beside  him ; 


POLITICS  OR  LOVE?  243 

then  she  turned  down  half  the  sheet,  and  pointed  to 
a  line. 

"Read,"  she  said,  holding  the  letter  tightly  in 
both  hands.  He  did  not  dare  to  snatch  the  missive 
from  her;  for  it  would  have  convicted  him  in  the  eyes 
of  his  friends. 

He  read  of  the  arms  and  ammunition  which  had 
sailed  upon  the  Brooklyn,  of  his  treason,  of  his 
love,  and  of  his  damnation!  He  fairly  muttered  the 
last  line:  "You  are  too  clever  to  choose  the  wrong 
man." 

He  re-read  to  the  very  end  in  his  eagerness,  and 
for  time  in  which  to  think.  For  a  moment  neither 
moved  nor  spoke.  Then  he  slowly  raised  his  eyes, 
until  they  met  Donna  Carima's.  "You  dare  not!" 
he  breathed. 

"I  dare  all!"  she  answered  in  as  low  a  tone, 
thrilled  with  determination.  She  met  his  angry 
gaze  unflinchingly,  but  she  struck  in  a  woman's  way. 

"Look!"  she  whispered  with  a  glance  at  the 
Secretary.  "  This  accusation  will  cause  the  old  man's 
death,  before  he  reaches  a  trial.  General  Hartley, 
there,  is  willing  to  ruin  his  career,  suffer  his  honor 
to  be  questioned  for  pity  of  the  Secretary's  years  and 
nobility,  and  because  he  is  not  guilty.  You  have 
only  to  destroy  the  proofs  which  you  say  you  have 
discovered  and  hold.  Do  this  in  mercy's  name;  not 
from  force  nor  fear,  but  for  the  twice-blessed  boon  of 
mercy!" 

"And  my  reward?"  asked  Truesdale,  regarding  the 
lovely  appealing  face  with  uncertainty. 

"A  clear  conscience  and  my  eternal  friendship, 
sir,"  she  replied. 


244        THE  GIRL  IN    QUESTION 

"No,  no,"  growled  the  Senator  in  sudden  anger. 
"Why  should  you  plead  for  him?"  he  looked  bitterly 
toward  the  old  Secretary  at  the  other  end  of  the  room, 
where  all  had  turned  respectfully  away  when  the 
girl-Queen  had  begun  her  attack  on  Truesdalc. 

Donna  Carima's  eyes  rested  thoughtfully  upon  the 
letter  in  her  hand,  as  the  Senator's  gaze  again  fell 
upon  her.  She  looked  fearlessly  at  her  adversary, 
tapping  the  paper  playfully.  Indeed,  she  was  as  dan- 
gerously playful  as  a  young  tigress,  and  he  felt  it. 

"  Pray  don't  let  me  persuade  you  against  your  will," 
she  smiled.  "  This  little  note  is  all  that  is  necessary 
to  ruin  you.  Just  read  it  in  print!"  Her  voice 
became  seriously  threatening  again.  "It  proves 
more  than  'graft,'  my  dear  Senator;  it  proves 
treason  to  your  country,  considerations  not  for 
officers'  commissions,  but  willing  infidelity  to  your 
— well — government!  Senator  Truesdale  is  not  a 
fool,  whatever  else  he  may  be." 

"Except  about  you!"  muttered  the  Senator  crest- 
fallen. His  eyes  rested  again  upon  the  note.  He 
inwardly  cursed  himself  for  having  written  it.  He 
had  discovered  too  late  what  fools  an  infatuation 
makes  of  the  most  cautious  men.  He  realized  that 
he  was  cornered  and,  at  last,  in  desperation  said  with 
reckless  courage: 

"  Well,  use  it !    Use  it,  if  you  will ! " 

She  smiled. 

He  turned  a  step  away,  yet  hesitated  and  returned 
to  Donna  Carima's  side,  eyeing  her  closely.  "Why 
are  you  doing  this?"  he  demanded  with  intense 
interest. 

She  regarded  him  with  sudden  inspiration.     Her 


POLITICS  OR   LOVE?  245 

idea  was  daring,  brilliant,  and  more  reckless  than  his 
determination. 

"If  I  tell  you  the  truth,  will  you  be  merciful?" 
she  asked. 

"Perhaps,"  he  answered. 

"If  I  really  surpriee  you,  will  you?"  Donna 
Carima  insisted.  "  If  I  tell  you  something  of  which 
you  have  never  even  thought?" 

He  looked  keenly  at  her. 

"Perhaps,"  he  repeated. 

"No,"  said  Donna  Carima.  "I  will  play  a  big 
stake,  any  stake  you  please;  but — 

The  man's  eyes  gleamed  as  she  appealed  to  his 
gambling  spirit. 

"I  accept,"  he  said  finally.  "You — against  the 
impeachment!" 

She  controlled  herself  with  an  effort.  It  was  a 
horrible  stake,  and  so  much  depended  upon  it!  The 
thought  nearly  suffocated  her,  but  she  dared  not 
think,  lest  her  courage  fail.  If  he  should  know  in 
some  mysterious  way?  So  little  escaped  his  knowl- 
edge! "If" — she  controlled  her  thoughts  suddenly, 
and,  leaning  toward  him,  whispered: 

"The  Secretary  is  my  grandfather!" 

"I  knew,"  quickly  replied  the  Senator;  but  his 
face  belied  his  words. 

"Guro  par  ftios!  You  lie!"  cried  Donna  Ca- 
rima fiercely. 

Truesdale's  eyes  could  not  meet  hers. 

He  straightened  himself  and,  after  an  instant's 
reflection,  he  said:  "  You  are  right.  I  did  not  know, 
but  now  I  understand.  You  are  Gloria's  daughter 
—Gloria's  daughter!" 


246       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

She  gazed  in  agony  and  suspense  upon  the  changing 
expressions  her  words  had  produced  upon  his  face. 
They  were  as  fleeting,  however,  as  they  were  inde- 
cipherable. But,  for  once,  Senator  Truesdale  was 
true  to  his  word  and  to  his  first,  and  perhaps  his  only 
love — Gloria! 

An  instant  later  he  turned  to  the  waiting  com- 
mittee. 

"Come,  gentlemen,"  he  commanded;  and,  without 
further  explanation,  he  passed  out  of  the  room, 
followed  by  his  friends. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  MOVING  FINGER  WRITES 

Donna  Carima  opened  her  eyes  upon  an  unfamiliar 
room.  The  early  dawn  streamed  coldly  upon  a  maid- 
servant who  sat  dozing  in  a  chair  beside  the  couch 
upon  which  Carima  lay.  Moments  elapsed  before 
the  events  of  the  past  night  presented  themselves  to 
her  delirious  brain.  By  slow  degrees,  however,  she 
remembered  the  circumstances,  one  by  one,  up  to  the 
last  overwhelming  moment,  before  clouds  of  dark- 
ness had  enveloped  her  senses.  A  chill  took  pos- 
session of  her,  as  she  recalled  that  last  awful  demand 
upon  her  wit,  when  her  lover  had  rushed  to  her  side, 
caught  her  extended  hands  in  his  own  eager  ones,  and 
perceived  the  cuts  and  blood-stains  upon  them;  her 
fruitless  effort  to  explain,  which  had  become  im- 
possible before  the  suffering  written  upon  his  hand- 
some face  where  she  had  read  the  lines  of  endurance 
and  repressed  passion.  Then  his  love-words  had 
again  sounded  upon  her  ear.  How  eagerly  she  had 
endeavored  to  listen,  but  a  cloud  had  descended  upon 
her,  until  she  had  reeled  forward  and  fallen  into  his 
arms.  And  he  had  clasped  her  so— so  tenderly! 
Faintly  she  closed  her  eyes,  recalling  the  sweet 
pressure  of  his  dear  arms. 

Suddenly  a  desire  to  escape  from  this  house 
came  over  her  with  a  rushing  force.  She  must  go  to 

247 


248        THE   GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

Leon.  Had  he  suffered  from  his  mad  venture? 
Carima  raised  herself  slowly  upon  her  elbow,  and 
examined  the  apartment  and  the  sleeping  maid. 

Cautiously  she  arose,  and  crept  toward  the  chair 
where  her  domino  had  been  tossed  some  hours  earlier. 
She  wrapped  it  about  her,  drew  on  her  slippers,  and 
stole  softly  out  into  the  passage.  For  a  moment,  she 
paused  and  listened.  All  was  still.  A  death-like 
silence  reigned  in  the  apparently  sleeping  household. 
She  glided  to  the  stairway,  paused  again,  and  de- 
scended, placing  each  foot  carefully  in  the  centre  of 
the  step  to  control  the  creaking  sound. 

At  last  the  hall  below  was  reached  in  safety. 
Now,  to  find  the  door  at  the  end  of  the  corridor,  and 
she  would  be  in  the  open  and  could  breathe!  She 
moved  forward,  when  the  recollection  of  Nick 
almost  caused  her  again  to  swoon.  She  had  prom- 
ised to  return  to  him.  She  must  keep  her  word. 
He  might  do  some  desperate  thing,  left  alone  for 
hours  in  his  present  state  of  mind!  She  turned  up 
the  hall  and  glided  softly  to  his  study  door,  inserted 
the  key  which  was  still  in  the  pocket  of  her  domino, 
and  was  about  to  turn  the  handle,  when  the  door 
opposite  opened,  and  the  Secretary's  voice  called: 
"Who's  there?" 

Startled,  she  moved  away  and  did  not  answer, 
hoping  her  host  would  not  pursue  the  noise  which 
had  evidently  aroused  him.  He  stepped  fearlessly 
into  the  hall,  however,  repeating  his  demand,  and 
caught  sight  of  her  shrinking  figure. 

"Who  is  it?"  he  demanded,  and  stepped  quickly 
toward  her.  "Donna  Carima!"  he  exclaimed,  as  he 
recognized  her  face.  "Are  you  seeking  some  one?" 


THE  MOVING  FINGER  WRITES    249 

"I  intended  to  go  home,"  she  said,  moistening  her 
dry  lips  in  an  effort  to  control  their  nervous  trembling. 

"Come  in  here,  while  I  order  a  carriage,"  suggested 
the  Secretary  kindly,  drawing  her  into  his  library. 

The  girl  allowed  him  to  lead  her  to  a  chair  before 
the  gray  embers  of  the  dying  fire.  She  sat  gazing 
at  them  in  a  bewildered  way,  until  a  vital  thought 
roused  her;  the  thought  that  the  old  man  beside 
her  was  her  mother's  father!  Her  own  blood!  Why 
had  she  never  felt  the  bond  before?  Carima  turned 
her  head,  and  found  the  Secretary's  eyes  fixed  in- 
tently upon  her. 

"Who  are  you?"  he  asked  in  a  low  voice  which 
she  could  scarcely  hear.  "You  came  here  like  some 
goddess.  Yet  we  know  they  no  longer  exist.  I 
am  innocent  of  this  disgraceful  charge  against  me, 
but  the  manner  hi  which  you  rescued  me  last  night 
was  a  miracle.  Won't  you  explain  to  me  the  secret 
of  your  power?" 

Donna  Carima  shook  her  head.  "I  can't — yet," 
she  answered,  and  turned  her  eyes  again  upon  the 
fading  coals. 

"If  the  President  only  knew  half  I  have  suffered 
from  Truesdale! "  murmured  the  Secretary.  "Trues- 
dale,  who  poses  as  the  'People's  Friend,'  and  who 
has  grown  rich  from  his  railroads  and  his  shipping 
grafts!  Honest,  hard-working  men,  who  represent 
the  people  for  the  people's  good,  do  not  accumulate 
wealth  in  a  few  years  at  the  Capitol.  If  the  President 
only  knew  all  I  know!" 

The  old  man's  voice  was  indignant,  but  Donna 
Carima  said  simply:  "Rulers  never  hear  the  truth. 
Few  honest  men  can  approach  near  enough  to  tell 


250       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

it  to  them.  It  is  the  error  of  kings,  and  will  become 
more  and  more  a  danger  of  your  country." 

"Which  is  your  country?"  asked  the  Secretary. 

"I  have  no  country,"  answered  Donna  Carima 
sadly.  "I  am  a  child  of  fate.  My  country  chose 
me,  not  I  my  country!  And  I  hope  to  carry  back 
freedom  to  my  beautiful  isle!" 

She  spoke  the  last  sentence  with  wistful  tenderness. 

"Had  you  a  daughter  once,  Mr.  Randolph?"  she 
questioned  a  moment  later,  without  looking  at  him. 

The  Secretary  replied:  "Yes,  once." 

"And  she  left  you,  did  she  not?"  continued  Donna 
Carima  softly. 

"Yes,"  again  sounded  the  pained  and  reluctant 
voice  in  answer. 

"And  she  was  Nick's  mother,"  insisted  Carima. 
There  was  no  questioning  inflection  in  her  voice,  and 
the  Secretary  did  not  reply.  He  sat  steadily  gazing 
at  the  strange  girl-woman.  She  turned  suddenly 
toward  him,  her  face  alight  with  tremulous  anxiety. 
"Her  name?"  she  asked  quickly.  "Her  name?" 

The  old  man  had  not  spoken  his  daughter's  name 
for  so  many  years,  he  hesitated. 

"Was  it — Gloria?"  asked  Donna  Carima  with 
sensitive  timidity. 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  Secretary.  "  It  was — Gloria! " 

Donna  Carima  sunk  back  with  a  deep  sigh.  Then 
she  sat  upright,  unfastened  her  cloak,  and  brought 
forth  the  famous  locket.  She  opened  it  and,  going 
to  the  old  man,  knelt  beside  him.  She  held  the 
jewelled  trinket  between  the  light  and  his  eyes. 

"Is  that  Gloria,  and  your  daughter?" 

The  Secretary  gazed  upon  the  painted  ivory,  until 


THE  MOVING  FINGER  WRITES   251 

tears  blurred  his  sight  and  rolled  slowly  down  his 
white  face.  He  drew  the  miniature  toward  him,  and 
pressed  his  lips  upon  it. 

"  My  daughter,  my  beautiful  daughter! "  he  sobbed. 
"  Where  did  you  get  this?  "  he  asked,  half-caressing  the 
fair  face  in  the  locket. 

"Don't  you  understand?  Can't  you  guess?" 
asked  Donna  Carima,  smiling  upon  the  tear-stained 
cheeks.  "She  is  my — mother!" 

For  several  full  moments  the  Secretary  sat  staring 
at  the  eager  face  which  had  drawn  so  near  his  own ; 
then  he  wound  both  arms  tightly  around  the  girl  in 
one  long  intense  embrace. 

"My  little  Glory's  daughter!  0  God,  but  thou 
art  kind!"  he  murmured  brokenly,  holding  her  at 
arm's  length,  and  gazing  at  her  with  starved  affection 
beaming  through  his  eyes. 

"Strange  I  never  noticed,"  he  said.  "You  are 
much  like  her,  and  yet, — quite  different.  Where  is 
she  now?  Shall  I  never  see  my  little  girl  again?" 

Donna  Carima  smiled  her  wondrous  smile  and 
nodded  her  head  in  hopeful  assent,  as  she  answered : 

"I  have  a  most  beautiful  idea,  if  you  will  humor  me. 
After  my  work  here  is  accomplished,  and  I  can  return 
to  help  my  people,  will  you  come  home  with  me  to 
my  mother,  your  daughter  Gloria?  I  can  promise 
you  much  pleasure.  Our  island  is  so  vastly  different 
from  your  country  and  your  life.  Here  people  only 
wonder  if  contentment  really  exists.  They  forget 
to  expect  it  to  be  their  personal  possession;  but  at 
home  we  live  for  it;  we  demand  it;  and  often, 
as  in  the  case  of  my  mother  and  father,  we  realize 
it!  I  know  that  man  is  born  to  progress,  and  yet 


252       THE  GIRL  IN  QUESTION 

sometimes  I  wonder  if  modern  civilization  will 
further  the  individual  happiness  of  my  people.  As 
you  know,  my  mother  stole  her  bliss,  and  it  has 
blossomed  into  vivid  joy.  I  refused  mine.  Some- 
times, of  late,  I  have  feared  if  my  mother  chose 
rightly,  for  I  have  learned  that  there  is  a  claim  called 
duty  and  perhaps  a  something  known  as — retri- 
bution!" 

Donna  Carima's  gaze  had  wandered  from  the 
Secretary's  face,  but  the  troubled  anxiety  lifted,  as 
he  said  hi  a  tone  of  strong  conviction : 

"She  did  choose  rightly,  I  know;  for  she  gave 
you  to  the  world.  You  are  a  force  for  good ;  because 
in  form,  in  thought,  and  in  soul  you  express  good. 
That  proves  that  she  chose  well!" 

"And  Mr.  Worthington,  her  first  husband?"  said 
Donna  Carima  timidly. 

"He  died  some  years  ago.  He  loved  my  Gloria 
in  his  way.  He  was  never  the  same  after  she  left 
him,  but  he  did  not  understand  her  dainty,  poetic 
nature.  I  felt  that  when  they  married;  but  I 
hoped  that  I  was  mistaken." 

Donna  Carima  sighed  heavily : 

"  Must  so  many  pay  to  make  the  happiness  of  one?  " 

Then  she  turned  to  the  Secretary. 

"Will  you  come  home  with  me?"  she  pleaded. 
"Will  you?" 

A  moment's  pause,  and  he  answered  simply : 

"Yes — I  must  see  my  little  girl  again.  Does  she 
laugh  as  she  once  did,  and  does  she  still  write 
verses?" 

Donna  Carima  smiled  assent.  "Her  laugh  is  the 
first  memory  of  my  babyhood,"  she  said  dreamily, 


THE  MOVING  FINGER  WRITES    253 

and  then,  with  her  quick  change  of  mood,  she  sprang 
to  her  feet. 

"You  will  come!"  she  cried.  "You  cannot 
realize  our  island-home  until  you  see  and  feel  it. 
The  exquisite  beauty  of  the  ever-summer,  the  marvel 
of  the  soft  laughing  waters  on  every  side!  Com- 
pared to  life  here,  where  you  rush  to  opera  in 
the  vain  hope  of  satisfying  your  craving  for  sound 
and  color  and  romance,  our  isle  is  like  a  radiant 
fairyland  where  such  desires  are  appeased  by  the 
true,  instead  of  the  false!  You  will  come,  and  Nick, 
Nick,  too,  will  come!"  cried  Donna  Carima  again 
more  rapturously.  "What  a  beauteous  ending! 
Ah,  Nick!  Have  I  forgotten  you  in  all  this  happi- 
ness!" she  cried,  starting  up  and  hurrying  toward 
his  prison  door. 

A  shot  chilled  the  rapture  which  had  spread  itself 
from  the  girl  to  the  old  man.  Another  shot  sounded, 
and  the  joy  hi  each  pair  of  eyes  changed  to  fearful 
horror. 

"Nick!"  shrieked  Donna  Carima,  and  she  rushed 
from  the  room.  She  pressed  open  the  opposite  door, 
as  the  Secretary  tottered  to  her  side.  Within  the 
room  stood  Nick  with  his  hands  clasped  under  his 
chin,  and  staring  wildly  up  at  a  portrait  of  his  mother. 
Indeed,  what  had  once  been  a  famously  exhibited 
painting  of  Gloria  Randolph  was  now  riddled  with 
bullets.  Tattered  and  torn  it  hung  in  fragments, 
drooping  pitifully  from  its  gilded  frame.  Carima 
understood,  and  gently  pushed  the  Secretary  into 
the  room,  while  she  hastily  drew  back  in  the 
shadow.  Nick  turned  with  startled  eyes  toward  his 
grandfather  who  held  out  his  trembling  arms  to  the 


254      THE   GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

light  of  his  life,  his  grandson.  After  an  instant's 
hesitation  Nick  fell  into  them  with  a  cry.  Carima 
hid  her  face,  as  she  heard  the  terrible  sobs  that  echoed 
after  her.  She  moved  toward  the  great  door  where, 
with  uncanny  cunning,  she  undid  the  intricate  lock 
and  opened  it. 

Finding  herself  upon  the  stone  steps  without, 
Carima  stood  clutching  the  rail.  She  knew  that  the 
crisis  had  been  reached,  that  the  pressure  upon 
Nick's  brain  had  been  relieved  without  further 
tragedy,  and  she  was  very  thankful.  She  drew  her 
cloak  more  tightly  about  her  shivering  form,  and 
with  a  mighty  effort  managed  to  descend  the  steps. 
When  she  reached  the  pathway,  Balteese  stood  be- 
fore her. 

"Home!"  she  said  feebly. 

Her  carriage  appeared,  and  she  sunk  upon  the 
cushions. 

"Home,"  she  murmured  again. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

WHATEVER  Is  Is  BEST? 

The  ship  was  nearing  port,  and  over  her  rail 
leaned  many  eager  faces. 

Donna  Carima  Astrados,  tall  and  pale,  her  beauti- 
ful eyes  intently  fixed  upon  the  hot  sunshine  stream- 
ing about  her,  stood  apart  from  the  crowd.  Slowly 
the  ship  entered  the  harbor  to  her  island-home. 
Erect,  with  the  superb  control  natural  to  her,  she 
looked  the  future  in  the  face.  She  had  failed  in  her 
mission. 

Previous  to  the  night  of  the  ball,  Senator  Truesdale 
had  left  nothing  undone  to  defeat  her  purpose  and  to 
ruin  her  friends,  to  gratify  his  spirit  of  revenge.  After 
that  night,  although  at  heart  he  had  wished  again 
to  befriend  her,  he  dared  not  do  so  openly.  Her 
great  chance  then  lay  in  the  strength  of  her  grand- 
father, the  War  Secretary,  but  Nick's  long  illness 
had  held  the  Secretary  chained  to  his  bedside,  and 
the  feeble  efforts  he  made  in  her  behalf  were  over- 
ruled. Leon  Hartley's  great  love  had  become  public 
gossip  and,  therefore,  his  ardent  endeavor  had  in- 
sufficient effect  tfk  carry  the  measure.  And  so  the 
petition  from  Donria  Carima's  people  had  failed. 

Had  it  been  possible  at  this  moment  for  Carima  to 
have  known  that,  years  later,  another  of  her  name 
and  beauty — her  own  daughter — would  carry  to 
the  same  great  Government  of  the  United  States 

255 


• 


256       THE  GIRL  IN    QUESTION 

a  like  petition,  and  that,  in  the  place  of  sover- 
eignty, a  new  republic  should  request  aid  and  re- 
ceive it,  her  burden  would  have  been  lightened 
mightily.  As  it  was,  she  stood  gazing  into  the 
waters  about  the  ship,  wondering  how  she  could 
explain  her  failure  to  her  expectant  people;  and 
as  she  gazed  into  the  shining  ripples,  a  white  clear- 
cut  face  appeared  to  her.  Into  her  ear  whispered 
the  echo  of  a  resonant  voice,  tender  for  her  alone. 
She  closed  her  eyes,  and  steadied  her  thought. 

There  had  been  no  further  excuse  for  her  to  remain 
in  Washington.  Her  people  must  be  told  of  her 
failure.  In  person  she  would  explain  as  best  she 
could,  and  then  perhaps  they  would  reject  her  as 
their  Queen.  Yes,  dethrone  her  and  make  her  free! 
Free  to  love!  A  light  of  hope  for  the  moment,  il- 
lumined her  beautiful  features.  Then  she  crushed 
her  thought  once  more  in  the  face  of  her  great  duty. 

The  pale  waters  seemed  to  mirror  the  events  of 
the  past  few  months  which  were  guiding  her  ever 
toward  one  end — understanding!  In  the  autumn 
of  the  year  she  had  departed,  as  the  petals  were 
falling  from  the  flowers.  Now  Time  had  turned  the 
cycle,  and,  with  mocking  courtesy  at  her  return,  all 
nature  blossomed  in  mute  ecstasy. 

A  thought  came  to  her  as  a  message  from  afar — 
a  thought  from  Anne  Aymington — a  great  soul, 
fearless  to  take  her  love,  and  strong  enough  to  re- 
nounce it  when  the  choice  of  love  or  duty  was 
forced  upon  her;  for,  even  in  her  doubt  and  regret, 
Anne  Aymington  had  realized  the  secret  of  life! 
Her  words  seemed  to  write  themselves  upon  the 
water  below  Carima,  with  the  white  spray : 


WHATEVER  IS  IS  BEST?  257 

"  The  only  love,  the  only  thought  that  endures,  that 
can  endure,  is  the  universal  love — the  universal 
thought — selfless  and  eternal!"  But  with  love 
throbbing  and  tearing  within  her  heart,  this  thought 
seemed  too  large  to  comprehend.  Like  a  magnet 
her  thought  returned  to  Leon  Hartley.  She  wondered 
vaguely  if  the  proof  of  love  lay  always  in  renuncia- 
tion, just  as  great  problem-stories  are  solved  by  death 
alone.  For  many  moments  she  dwelt  upon  all  that  a 
thought  of  him  carried  to  her.  She,  who  had  had 
such  utter  confidence  in  life,  in  love,  in  the  good  of 
creation,  why  should  this  sorrow  come  to  her? 
Suddenly  from  out  her  thoughts  spoke  a  soundless 
voice:  "Those  who  would  reign  in  wisdom  must 
first  get  understanding!" 

And  Carima  Astrados  suddenly  understood. 

She  saw  herself  again  as  she  had  started  upon 
life's  journey,  filled  with  buoyancy,  hope,  courage — a 
spirit  that  knew  not  defeat!  She  had  vowed  to  live 
forever  "true  unto  herself."  Unconsciously  she 
had  determined  to  rule  her  own  destiny,  to  live  her 
own  life!  But  who  had  ever  succeeded?  She 
realized  now  that  to  each  one  who  thus  endeavors 
comes  the  choice,  sooner  or  later,  of  changing  and 
living  for  the  world,  or  being  crushed  by  the  Jugger- 
naut car  of  the  world. 

She  was  the  first  daughter  of  the  noble  house  of 
Astrados,  with  its  ancient  and  royal  lineage,  who 
hzwl  refused  the  usual  custom  of  permitting  the 
choice  of  a  suitable  consort  to  rest  upon  the  advice 
of  parents.  But  no,  Donna  Carima  had  declared  it 
her  will  that  she  alone  would  give  her  heart  to  the 
man  of  her  heart's  choice.  And  her  will  had  con- 

17 


258      THE  GIRL   IN  QUESTION 

quered,  for  she  was  strong.  She  had  conquered! 
She  had  gone  out  into  the  world  alone,  had  cast 
aside  her  country's  conventions,  had  given  her  heart, 
had  felt  love  in  return,  and  now,  in  defeat,  she  stood 
overlooking  the  peaceful  waters  surrounding  her 
island-home.  Heavy  chains  seemed  to  weigh  upon  her 
wrists — chains  of  custom,  iron  bands  of  convention! 
She  felt  them  dragging  her  back  to  the  old  path  of 
renunciation  experienced  by  the  women  of  her  line. 

She  understood  now  that,  though  her  brain  had 
always  worked  for  her  people,  her  heart  from  the 
first  had  craved  a  love  for  self  only;  and  even  at  this 
moment  her  love  for  Leon  Hartley  was  so  strong, 
so  intense,  that  within  her  heart,  half-hidden  from 
herself,  lived  the  hope  that,  rejected  by  her  own 
people,  she  could  return,  crownless  and  an  outcast, 
to  the  feet  of  her  lover. 

She  was  startled  from  her  reverie  by  the  grating  of 
the  anchor  chain;  and,  as  she  followed  Signora 
Piquero  down  the  gangway  to  the  gayly  decorated 
and  awaiting  barge,  she  noted  the  tremendous  ex- 
citement which  prevailed  on  the  shore.  In  wide- 
eyed  wonderment  at  the  scene  about  her,  she  was 
met  by  her  smiling  parents  who  embraced  her 
warmly  with  every  expression  of  endearment. 

Driving  through  the  crowded  streets,  seated  in  the 
low  carriage  beside  her  mother  and  opposite  to  her 
father,  she  noted  the  festooned  flags  and  garlands  of 
flowers,  the  superb  abundance  of  which  were  con- 
spicuous even  in  this  land  of  blossoms,  as  they  drove 
along  the  highway  leading  toward  the  Palace.  She 
realized  that  it  was  a  gala  day,  and  that  it  was  her 
name  which  rang  upon  the  air  in  joyous  cheers! 


WHATEVER  IS  IS  BEST?          259 

"The  Princess!" 

Ah,  the  sadness  of  it!  Carima  almost  wept.  They 
thought  that  she  had  returned  in  triumph!  She  had 
sent  a  cable  of  explanation  to  her  father,  frankly  in- 
forming him  of  her  failure.  Why  had  he  not  an- 
nounced it?  The  humiliation  of  defeat  was  ex- 
cluded, however,  from  her  thoughts.  All  self-interest 
was  suddenly  swept  from  her,  and  her  heart  ached 
for  her  loved  ones'  coming  disappointment  only. 
"  If  their  wild  happiness  could  continue! "  she  prayed 
in  the  silence  of  her  tender  heart.  But  they  must 
be  told  the  truth,  her  poor  people! 

At  last  she  reached  the  entrance  to  the  beautiful 
mansion  of  her  girlhood  days,  "Sylva  Loleta,"  passed 
through  lines  of  prostrate  servants,  and  stepped  upon 
the  low  terrace  where  she  had  looked  into  the  future 
through  the  coffee  grains. 

Still  the  people  cheered! 

Their  happiness  stirred  the  very  leaves  in  rustling 
joy!  It  all  resembled  a  dream  to  Carima.  Her 
soul  had  been  so  tossed  and  torn  and  wearied,  hope 
had  been  so  utterly  crushed,  and  now  this  great 
voice  of  love — universal  love — sent  to  her  an  electric 
thrill  of  answering  joy.  Joy  that  bloomed  in  her 
heart  like  a  rose  in  the  desert!  If  she  could  be  al- 
lowed to  live  for  them,  now  that  she  truly  under- 
stood! 

She  moved  along  the  terrace,  and  suddenly  there 
rose  before  her  an  old  priest. 

"Father  Angelo!"  she  cried,  and  fell  upon  her 
knees  before  him.  "Father,"  she  sobbed,  "say 
nothing  until  you  hear  all.  I  have  failed!  Fate 
was  too  strong  for  me,  a  woman;  and  wisdom  has 


160       THE  GIRL  IN   QUESTION 

come  too  late.  I  have  returned  to  renounce  all 
claim  to  power." 

The  old  priest  spread  his  hands  in  benediction 
above  her  bowed  head.  "We  know  that  which  has 
happened,  my  daughter.  God's  will  be  done.  You 
are  still  the  chosen  one.  Reconciliation  has  already 
extended  throughout  the  land,  under  the  benign 
influence  of  our  Dictatress,  the  affianced  Princess  of 
His  Highness,  the  Prince  Lyulph  Rodriguez  d'Orelmo 
y  Tavarries. 

The  pallor  in  Carima's  cheeks  grew  death-like  at 
the  mention  of  such  an  alliance. 

The  prince  stepped  forward  as  his  name  was 
spoken.  His  word  to  her  had  proved  sincere. 
Through  victory  and  through  failure,  he  had  waited 
in  hope.  Suddenly  she  realized  the  meaning  of  the 
people's  shouts: 

"Princess!   Long  live  the  Princess!" 

She  turned  her  gaze  full  upon  the  young  Prince 
who  stood  smiling  in  happiness  before  her.  Here 
was  a  friend  who  could  help  her  understand  and 
gather  wisdom;  but,  oh,  the  pity  of  it  all! 

Finally  it  was  the  thought  of  Leon  Hartley, 
gentleman  and  soldier,  that  chose  for  her.  He  would 
wish  her  to  make  the  nobler  choice.  She  turned 
toward  the  eager  faces  of  her  people.  What  love 
she  read  in  each!  What  work  she  saw  before  her! 
Her  soul  awoke  from  its  slumber,  as  the  exaltation  of 
peace  swept  over  her. 

She  realized  that  she  was  being  covered  with  the 
scarlet  robe  of  authority  by  Father  Angelo,  and  he 
was  addressing  the  joyous  crowd. 

He  drew  forward  the  young  Prince.    For  a  full 


WHATEVER  IS  IS  BEST?          261 

moment  Carima  looked  into  his  eyes.  They  were 
proud,  keen  eyes;  and  as  they  met  her  own  an 
exquisite  tenderness  darkened  them.  Instinctively 
she  extended  her  hand  in  court  fashion.  The  Prince 
uncovered  his  head,  and  was  about  to  press  his  lips 
passionately  upon  her  long  white  fingers,  when  a 
nightingale  sent  its  ardent  sensuous  notes  heaven- 
ward, and  the  Prince  stood  motionless.  The  people 
listened. 

"The  nightingale's  song  by  day!  It  is  an  omen!" 
cried  Father  Angelo. 

"  Aye,  an  omen  of  great  joy  to  one  of  us! "  cried  the 
Prince. 

Carima's  hand  closed  over  the  locket  about  her 
neck.  To  her  psychic  vision  the  diamond  case 
became  transparent,  and  she  looked  upon  the  face 
of  Leon  Hartley. 

"Great  joy  to  one  of  us?"  she  murmured,  as  the 
Prince  again  bowed  over  her  hand. 

A  tremendous  cheer  rang  upon  the  air. 

Carima,  Dictatress,  smiled  divinely  in  acknowl- 
edgment. 

The  cheers  died  away,  and  the  air  became  filled 
with  roses  and  laughter.  The  Dictatress  lifted  her 
eyes  to  the  turquoise  sky,  and  mentally  questioned: 

"If  convention's  love  is  the  fated  love,  then  why 
was  there  the  greater  love?" 

And  her  heart  sought  the  future  for  its  answer. 


THE  COMPLETE  WORKS 

OF 

WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE 

"LIFE  is  A  GLORIOUS  THING." — W.  J.  Locke 

"  If  you  wish  to  be  lifted  out  of  the  petty  cares  of  to-day,  read  one 
of  Locke's  novels.  You  may  select  any  from  the  following  titles  and 
be  certain  of  meeting  some  new  and  delightful  friends.  His  char- 
acters are  worth  knowing." — Baltimore  Sun. 

The  Morals  of  Marcus  Ordeyne  The  Demagogue  and  Lady  Phayre 
At  the  Gate  of  Samaria  The  Beloved  Vagabond 

A  Study  in  Shadows  The  White  Dove 

Where  Love  Is  The  Usurper 

Derelicts  Idols 

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The  Beloved  Vagabond 

"'The  Beloved  Vagabond'  is  a  gently-written,  fascinating  tale. 
Make  his  acquaintance  some  dreary,  rain-soaked  evening  and  find 
the  vagabond  nerve-thrilling  in  your  own  heart." 

— Chicago  Record- Herald. 

"No  more  truly  delightful  tale  has  been  given  the  public  for  a 
long  time." — Philadelphia  Public  Ledger. 

The  Morals  of  Marcus  Ordeyne 

"  A  literary  event  of  the  first  importance." — Boston  Herald. 
"  One  of  those  rare  and  much-to-be-desired  stories  which  keep  one 
divided  between  an  interested  impatience  to  get  on,  and  an  irresis- 
tible temptation  to  linger  for  full  enjoyment  by  the  way." — Life. 

Where  Love  Is 

"  A  capital  story  told  with  skill." — New  York  Evening  Sun. 
"One  of  those  unusual  novels  of  which  the  end  is  as  good  as  the 
beginning." — New  York  Globe. 


WILLIAM  J.  LOCKE 

The  Usurper 

"  Contains  the  hall-mark  of  genius  itself.  The  plot  is  masterly  in 
conception,  the  descriptions  are  all  vivid  flashes  from  a  brilliant 
pen.  It  is  impossible  to  read  and  not  marvel  at  the  skilled  work- 
manship and  the  constant  dramatic  intensity  of  the  incident,  situ- 
ations and  climax." — The  Boston  Herald. 

Derelicts 

"  Mr.  Locke  tells  his  story  in  a  very  true,  a  very  moving,  and  a 
very  noble  book.  If  any  one  can  read  the  last  chapter  with  dry 
eyes  we  shall  be  surprised.  '  Derelicts  '  is  an  impressive,  an  im- 
portant book.  Yvonne  is  a  creation  that  any  artist  might  be  proud 
of." — The  Daily  Chronicle. 

Idols 

"  One  of  the  very  few  distinguished  novels  of  this  present  book 

season." — The  Daily  Mail. 

"  A  brilliantly  written  and  eminently  readable  book." 

—  The  London  Daily  Telegraph. 

A  Study  in  Shadows 

"  Mr.  Locke  has  achieved  a  distinct  success  in  this  novel.  He  has 
struck  many  emotional  chords,  and  struck  them  all  with  a  firm, 
sure  hand.  In  the  relations  between  Katherine  and  Raine  he  had 
a  delicate  problem  to  handle,  and  he  has  handled  it  delicately." 

—  The  Daily  Chronicle. 

The  White  Dove 

"  It  is  an  interesting  story.  The  characters  are  strongly  conceived 
and  vividly  presented,  and  the  dramatic  moments  are  powerfully 
realized." — The  Morning  Post. 

The  Demagogue  and  Lady  Phayre 

"  Think  of  Locke's  clever  books.  Then  think  of  a  book  as  differ- 
ent from  any  of  these  as  one  can  well  imagine — that  will  be  Mr. 
Locke's  new  book." — New  York  World. 

At  the  Gate  of  Samaria 

"  William  J.  Locke's  novels  are  nothing  if  not  unusual.  They  are 
marked  by  a  quaint  originality.  The  habitual  novel  reader  inevi- 
tably is  grateful  for  a  refreshing  sense  of  escaping  the  common- 
place path  of  conclusion." — Chicago  Record- Herald. 


DOLF  WYLLARDE 

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of  Kipling,  in  the  good  old  days  of  Plain  Tales  from  the  Hills." 
-.    f  — New  York  Globe. 

Mafoota 

A  Romance  of  Jamaica 

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Magdalen,' but  the  heroine  is  a  puritan  of  the  stictest  type;  the 
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As  Ye  Have  Sown 

"  A  brilliant  story  dealing  with  the  world  of  fashion." 

Capain  Amyas 

"  Masterly." — San  Francisco  Examiner. 

"  Startlingly  plain  spoken." — Louisville  Courier-Journal. 

The  Rat  Trap 

"  The  literary  sensation  of  the  year." — Philadelphia  Item. 

The  Story  of  Eden 

"  Bold  and  outspoken,  a  startling  book." — Chicago  Record-Herald. 
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— Spectator. 

JULIAN  STREET 

My  Enemy — The  Motor 

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L.  C.  VIOLETT  HOUK 

The  Girl  in  Question 

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THOMAS  COBB 
The  Chichester  Intrigue 

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HANDASYDE 

For  the  Week-End 

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Giving  an  account  of  the  visits  of  Blanche  Heythorpe,  of  what 
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A     000  126  677     4 


